Maoh, gave a roar. Extremely maddened. Why..why couldn't he damage him seerely. Wss it because he lacked Anger. No. it was not. Summoning forth more fire, from the depths of his soul, he screamed! Fire shooting upwards and cascading like a pillar!

Arcing upwards, as he was now covered completely in flames. As he etended his hands! Fie seeming to flare brightly. He would be eaten he admitted, yet he would go down fighting! this would not be a completely empty hollowed victory fo him.

It would pyrric, he hoped. As the fire cascaded and buffeted around his form, he seemed to exude heat. No, he was heat. Rich orange wrathing flames. Yes, this was a worthy challenge to overcome, on his path to becoming a Hero. As a means to overcome ny fight really, he had no choice but to fight, to get stronger, no matter the consequence. So be it. He would become stronger.

Fire belonged to him, he did not belong to its whims, he was in control, was he not. His anger fanned the flames around him into smething more sharp, more focused, more emboldened.

Narrowing his eyes, he cuspd his hands, placing them against his side. fire covering his form utterly as he began to draw it inwards towards the hands at his side. Compacting all the fire that was against his form, as it was sucked downwards into his hans with a swirling motion, as he concentrated, seeming to build up, the output of mana, as the flames hovering around his form.

Died, vanisihing into the now forming orb of pure fire forming within his hands, as he roared silently. Now visible, his form lightly covered in bruises and patched blackened skin from the heat that was wafting off his form.

Groaning a bit, one could feel the enormous heat being gathered along his cusped hands, as he he huffed, exhaling, seeming to pour almost all of his magic, into a spectacular final attack!

Speaking he shouted THIS! THIS IS NOT THE END! I WILL GO DOWN FIGHTING SO TAKE THIS! FIRE ART: FIRE LANCE!!

As from his hands shot forth a charged beam mae of searing heat, capable if Medulas was hit causig him severe burns, and pain. Clearly to far gone in his anger at his own losses so far to Medulas, his innate magic, and rage reacted, however it could. Allowing him to form a beam of utter heat and make it manifest by sheer rage!
(Maoh Ultheruld)

[09:35:47] Mendulas stepped forward, slow. Not fazed by the weakling's fire, Maoh yelled, a fierce blaze of arrow fire surged towards the Magi. Engulfed him. Surrounded him. He laughed from within the flames, that heavy reek of autumn rolling forth, not consumed by the heat of the fire.

"Weak." He said from within the fire, his darkness protected him from the flame dying down now, split around him, the grass hot and blazing, but the stench of autumn the choking darkness, that was enough to snuff out this ants.

"Why would I allow one weaker than me to join me on my quest?"" He was close now, close enough to snuff out the fire around him, his hand reaching for the wounded boy's head. A punch in the face, augmented by his darkness. Augmented by his rage.

The suffocating darkness grew ever stronger, wanting to choke Maoh, to kill him. "I do not wish for you to be on my quest. You are weak." He then lifted his knee, gripping the boy's head in his hand, a knee to the face, and a push with darkness, possibly breaking his nose and breaking more bones in his body. "Remove yourself.. from my sight." He turned, his clone shimmering from existance, the smell of autumn clinging now to Maoh a product of being near Mendulas, the corrupted in white.
(Mendulas Eutrice)