Losing his tounge

"Then they shall die too!"

It was a simple response, really, and the only one that needed to be uttered. If they refused to embrace Azrael and his wish for eternal peace, even be it through violent means to an end, then they would be sent to his side in death. A sentiment that shined clearly in his actions as well. As he charged into battle once more, his approach slowed by a push that forced his boots to skid across the dirt, and a pull in swift succession that nearly forced him to fall face first into the ground, his fists were raised once more as the flames surrounding him intensified.

A powerful blow landed squarely on the boy's jaw, a fiery explosion upon impact searing the flesh of their face, followed by him grasping the boy's wrist as they were propelled backward, to keep them within his reach, giving the boy whiplash as he pulled them back, and his other hand was extended out to grasp their throat. The bones of the hand that was crushing the breath from him were unbareably hot, yet not to the point of melting flesh, it was merely extremely agonizing, a painful lesson to reinforce the idea that they'd need to become much stronger, and a maniacal cackle echoed through the dark corridors.

"You stand absolutely no chance against me, child. This was not an opportunity to grow, but it was amusing if nothing else, and for that, I will let you live! Though keep the harsh true to reality dear to heart, if you choose to champion the non-magi, or even those who stand against the current reigning factions, you will need far more than your own might! But before I go...."

The skeleton's grasp on their throat was released, only to change and drag them by their hair as the undead abomination began to trudge toward the shattered remains of his sword, and once it was within reach, it's blade was snatched up and buried into the boy's belly and ripping it out, allowing blood to flow freely. The remnants of his blade were tucked away, and a skin, normally reserved for water of a mortal, was removed and placed under the wound, remaining there until it was full. With his prize seized, his boney appendiges released their hair, became enveloped in white-hot flames, and were pressed against the wound, searing it shut before he would begin to walk away.

An agonizing encounter for the young child, and one to likely never forget.
(Rak' Ashiir)
 The pain was beyond description. Talked down to, dragged by his hair, and then stabbed in the stomach before having the wound burnt shut, it was indeed an experiance not to be forgotten.

He would still speak up then. "Some may die, but they outnumber you. Eventually they will grow tired of dying in the name of magi, one day they'll rebel, and they'll tear down your towers and rip apart your established factions, they'll take back the country that rightfully belongs to them, as they are the masses."

And with that he would simply fall silent, sitting in pain until the Skeleton left, once it was gone he would rise to his feet, using gravity magic to keep the wound closed, as he was afraid that despite it being burnt shut, perhaps it would reopen if he walked long enough
(Petyr Renart)
After his departure with the mermaid. He acknowledged a secret so great that most would kill for.

Sure it might be common knowledge. But he knew the one weak spot that all Sirens had, and he was surely going to make that useful in the future.

Only pulling it out when ever it deemed to be necesary in the future.

But as of now, it was time to go to New Alteros.

Taking a ferry wasn't his dream choice as it made him feel as if he had no grounding. As if he was weightless and sailing out to sea. As if he had no control over anything as the ship sailed outwards to its destination.

So here he was, running through Trystle's Cavern. Not wasting a second of passing through as he knew that anything could jump out of the shadows and strike him. So he had to stay on the move.

It wasn't long before he reached the caves exit. Soon to leave the caves.

But just as he was ready to leave. There was something that bothered him. Glancing to his right. he saw a bloodied boy and a flaming skeleton walking away.

Frowning. Glave made his way to stop the skeleton from going on any more.

Looking from the skeleton to the downed boy. He questioned the flaming skeleton.

" So erm. . . mind telling me what you did there?" he questioned. " And how are you standing? . . . . . I thought that once a body died. It could never be reanimiated. So care to tell me how you, a skeleton, is standing before me?"
(Glave)
 The skeleton stopped dead in his tracks as he heard the voice of another, and his head swiveled to glance over his shoulder toward Glave ask him their question. A dark chuckle came from the undead abomination as he replied, "I am here because my master wills it. That is all you need to know, mortal. I suggest you help this child to safety, if you value his life, or yours." A brief moment was taken to glance the young lad over once more as he paused. This young lad looked far more capable than the last, a blazing shroud of blue energy wreathing around them, a challenge perhaps? But did he really have time for this?

"So, what's it going to be..? The smart lad who knows their place..? Or the dead one who tries to play the hero..?"
(Rak' Ashiir)
Regardless of the conversation going on between the newcomer and the skeleton, Renart would tap into his gravity magic once more to lift him off the ground and carry him off, he was not sticking around to piss off the Skeleton further, and he had no interest in what this guy who was playing hero had to say, he would instead go to depart, doubting very much that either of them would go to stop him while they were engaged in there own little dispute, and as the Skeleton was already leaving.
(Petyr Renart)
Frowning, Glave wasn't quite satisfied with his answer.

So why not try again, but give in more detail. "Who exactly is your master?" he quizzed as he prodded some more.

The flaming skeleton surely was scary. But he wasn't just going to back down because it told him too.

"That dying boy isn't of any concern to me" he stated brutally. "In the streets I grew up in, I seen them die left and right."

"How about you answer me truthfully before things get a bit. . . energetic." he stated outloud

Then he noticed that the boy was leaving. So he just pointed over towards the fleeing boy. "And erm. . . he's kinda floating away. . So it's just me and you"
(Glave)
With Petyr floating off, their wound clutched to ensure it didn't reopen, the two were left standing one on one, just as the young lad had stated. Though the manner in which they'd delivered their questions forced a chuckle from the skeleton once more as he inquired incredulously, "And why should I bother telling you that..? I doubt you'd find the information useful to begin with, you'd never encounter him, unless he desired to meet with you."

A single finger was raised as he finished, "You have one last chance to cease your questions and allow me to go about my business, or things are going to get just as ugly for you, as they did for that child. Only this time, I may not be so merciful for your obdurate persistence..."
(Rak' Ashiir)
Shrugging, Glave found this as a perfect oppurtunity to attempt his power.

Walking towards the skeleton. He came at it with an even smile

"How about this. . . If I win. You tell me all I need to know. Simple as that" He stated as he continued to make his way towards him.

Reaching behind him. He grabbed at the hilt of his sword. Pulling it free from his shaft bringing it out above to only swipe it down infront of him as he pointed the tip to the ground.

"Sounds fair right?" he continued on as his energy shroud engulfed his sword aswell. Using it as a sort of extention.


(Glave)
 While his own blade had been shattered, the jagged remnants would serve it's purpose for the time and were retreived from where they'd been tucked away as Glave approached, drawing thier own sword as they spoke. To him, there was no deal, nothing offered in return, but there would be a price if they failed, that was certain. A dark chuckle came as excitement welled up within the undead abomination and he replied, his ghastly voice nearly demonstrating a giddy nature,

"I was right about you. You are definitely stronger than they were. Perhaps you will do more than amuse me today and truly give me an opportunity to refine my skills."

With the hilt, a short amount of jagged metal yet protruding past it's guard, and seperated blade clutched in either hand, Rak' Ashiir merely waited for the battle to begin.
(Rak' Ashiir)
As the two charged toward one another, the undead warrior's hypothetical blood began to boil with excitement, and as they met in the middle, the boy's blade clashing with the hilt of his shattered sword and becoming locked, he stared intently into the boy's eyes with his own gaze, lacking the sensory organ, leaving only soulless black pits in their place. During their struggle to overpower one another he commented with a sneer,

"Much, much better than that last whelp, if I had a fleshy body, I may even break a sweat right now!"

Though it was a comment made just before he plunged the tip of his blade into a chink in their armor and planted his foot firmly into their gut, sending them staggering backward as he sauntered forward and continued,

"I, unlike you however, have endless stamina. I don't feel pain, I never tire, I never sleep, I never cease in my relentless pursuit for power, only sheer power can overcome me, and that is why you will lose today, boy!"

As the young lad regained their composure and clashed again, both of them ducking and weaving around each other's swings, the skeleton displayed that his words were more than mere bravado as the swings became faster and harder to dodge, until at long last a flurry of blows managed to knock the young teen to the ground from the relentless force of impact.

"GET UP!"
(Rak' Ashiir)
It didn't take long for the two to collide together with full burst. Striking down the other as if they were giving it their all. Sparks flew into the air as their blades slashed at the other.

Colliding once more, the swords were both locked. Smirking. Glave didn't reply to the skeleton as he was trying his best to focus on the situation on hand.

It was then that the both of them broke off from the other. The skeleton amazingly got through his sword style and managed to get a clean shot at his gut. Impaling him straight through his armor.

Clenching his teeth. Glave jumped backwards in pain as he clutched at his wound with his free hand.

But event his wound wouldn't have the skeleton let up his attacks as he continued his assualt. So Glave had no other option but to fight back.

Once more the two went at it as the sound of metal beating down the other filled the air. This was sure to gather a crowd of yokai within a moments notice. But that didn't matter. Because the skeleton was somehow getting stronger. . . Faster even. . . It would soon come time that the skeleton would overwhelm Glave and send him crashing towards the ground.

The creature then roared for him to get up. Which he did.

Pushing himself to a stand. He gripped his sword in both hands. Focusing on his mana. He pushed it to its limit, Causing it to burn within him as he focused on his aura.

Let's do it
' Let's do it' both he and his ancestor said within Glave's mind as the teen's aura began to flicker. Suddenly becoming wild with raw energy like an uncontrolable force. The power that was radiating off of him sent shockwaves throughout the cave as he stood there in it's brilliance.

It wasn't long for him to once more. Achieve the hidden spell known as Ancestral Wrath.

Not being cocky, Glave looked up towards Rak. Only grinning as he knew that this battle wasn't going to end anytime soon. It was just going to get harder, and without a word. He charged back towards Rak
(Glave)
When we fight as one Henir says
'We're stronger together' he replies to his ancestor
Couldn't say it better myself

Now with his wild energetic aura. Glave charged at the skeleton. Pratically slapping away the skeleton's attacks as they came at him. It had seemed as if the flaming reanimated body was getting slower and his attacks were doing less damage as Glave kept on coming at him relentlessly. It seemed that he was simply the winner in this one.

But all of that being said, Glave was still struck multiple times. But the pain that came from his newly open wounds was actually numbing as he was stuck countless of times aswell.

It was only a matter of time that Glave managed to smack away the skeleton's attack, parrying it once then rushing in to charge at the flaming bones and shouldered the creature to the ground.

He would then stand back and point the tip of his sword towards Rak. Then bringing it up as he was motioning for the dead being to get back up and fight
(Glave)

As their second round commenced, the young teen seemed to fight with renewed fire and strength, far surpassing that which he'd demonstrated previously. His own attacks came slower, more calculated in their attempt to connect with the flesh of his adversary rather than keeping his foe always on their guard. A thing that only seemed to help his foe as they maintained their barrage of blows, finding them increasingly difficult to dodge as he was forced to give up sure footing and proper positioning.

Once the opportunity was given, the teen had bulldozed forward and forced his skeletal frame back down onto the ground, the only thing binding them together being the magic of the Lich King himself, and when his adversary stepped back, allowing him a brief moment of respite to rise once more, the opportunity was not squandered. With a chuckle he commented, rising as he did, "At long last, I've met someone who can at least challenge me. You're the first to even best me in a single round of combat..."

As his jagged shards of blade were raised he finished,

"Too bad you wont enjoy your short lived triumph much longer."
(Rak' Ashiir)
As the skeletal monstrosity once more thundered forward, the flames around him intensified, his own second wind providing an immense burst of strength. The blinding speed of his shattered blade hilt breezed past his adversary's own and crashed into Glave's chest, pummeling their armor and staggering them once more. An opportunity not squandered by the undead thrall, and the seperated blade was thrust forward into their left shoulder, causing agonizing pain and allowing their blood to flow from their body profusely when it was removed.

Though not so much so that the feat was impossible, and while Glave had been greivously wounded, their onslaught continued. Their moves pressed against him, forcing him to retreat, and even dissipate into a cloud of mist and reappear behind them when things were getting too hairy. It was only that ability that gave him the edge he needed to overcome this obstacle.

In a winner take all gambit, a powerful swing of Glave's blade came screaming toward his skull, and Rak' Ashiir was forced to disperse for a final time just upon it's impact, starting with his skull and working his way down. Much like against Petyr, he had allowed the illusion of victory, a shattered skull and the rest of his body to dissipate with it? It seemed there would be no answers for him today. Yet the instant their blade had passed through the mist, he quickly reformed and thrust his blade deep into the teen's hand, forcing their sword from grasp, and kicked the tool aside, far from reach.

With his foe disarmed, he thundered forward, charging with his shoulder, and knocked his foe to the ground, where the armored skeleton sat atop him. His right hand was unable to even be clenched into a fist, for the time anyway, and his left shoulder was gimp, there was no forcing him from his perch, and a maniacal cackle came from the undead abomination as he threw his head back and proclaimed,

"Victory is mine! The supremecy of Azrael is proven!"

Though that was as long as his elated proclaimation lasted, and it was time to return to business once more. As he turned his eyeless gaze down to his fallen adversary he continued far more grimly in a ghastly whisper,

"Though you won't be speaking of this battle any time soon..."

With his foreshadowing finished, the jagged blade was raised in his right hand, and his hilt was sheathed before his left reached out, prying open the boy's lips with his boney appendiges and taking a firm grasp of their tongue. It was by now that the boy should know what was coming next, and a feeling of dread would likely consume them as he the flames surrounding the skeleton's frame moved to consume only the edge of his blade before it was used to seperate the muscle from his head and sear the wound shut simultaneously.

The removed piece of flesh was then dangled in front of them, dripping blood onto their face as he muttered, "I think I'll keep this as a trophy, aside with some of your blood as well. You can thank that child for breaking it and elongating our fight....but now I need to reforge it...and the blood of my magi enemies should prove to be quite useful in not only restoring it...but augmenting it..."

With the severed tongue tucked away, another flask was removed, and the blood of the magi was collected before he rose to his feet, freeing them from the crushing weight of the skeleton's frame and allowing them to stand and walk away, if they were able. Rak' Ashiir didn't linger to find out.
(Rak' Ashiir)