Even Legends Die.

{NARRATION} The imperfect yokai certainly defied expectations in more ways than one. Rather than armour, across his bare torso were slung several large wooden beads, like a bandeloir, each one carved with a different symbol. On his back was an impressive sword, no doubt his kaor blade (or a fake to divert attention from his sunglasses). He stepped forward and drew his sword, flourishing the massive thing easily in one hand and summoning more yokai to the cause. His own personal guard. "Your agitation of the humans was always going to be your downfall, Arimanes... you're just not ready, yo. But I guess I can do the job for you. Peace."

[16:19:34] Arsenic: ...Fucking fantastic.
[16:21:16] To find what was... To blink his eyes in high uncertanty. No, this was difficult to expect it was not approriate. This could not be correct. To hear all the words coming from that imperfects mouth-- The one that was agitated was Lucien. Who else would be?

To see this... This, it enraged his mind. It stabbed away at his core. The feelings within. Ah, it was disappointment. For this Imperfect was... Dressed too casually. "Is this really it?" He had to question it. It was so hard to fathom for his mind. It was driving him mad.

The grammer. The attire. It had him twitching. It had him gritting. It was-- A joke. At least the battle wouldn't be? He expect that. Surely it wasn't... But that high beating of his heart was not adrenaline. It was anger.
(Lucien Hirano)

[16:22:08] Arimanes was absolutely flabbergasted at just about everything pertaining to this. An afro, sunglasses, a comb... just what could possess an Imperfect to assume such an absurd getup? Was it eternal boredom due to age, or did he unlock some secret power that can only manifest within an afro?

...
No, this isn't DBR.

This is Eternia.

Arimanes had to take this seriously, despite how difficult it was looking to be to do so. There was a lot on the line, and if she won, she could consume him and grow in power immensely. Perhaps it'd be the final catalyst needed for her to ascend? That was just wishful thinking, but she drew ever-closer to Imperfection as time went on.

...But did she truly want to evolve by eating this?

Well, beggars can't be choosers.
(Arimanes)

[16:24:41] Sooo the trudge was kind of hectic, really... Trying to work her way along with her circuits feeling all the more burnt out as the days and time passed on. Thankfully Lucien had been there to take care of her and make sure that she could be healed up from the pain that had been placed down on her. Welp, if they were actually fighting an Imperfect rather than a kaor lord, they really had something coming to them. They were going to end up being a bit more smashed by the end of the day, but they really had to adjust and do it right... Or they were just going to fall flat on their faces.

"Be prepared... He's powerful desipte any looks..." She muttered under her breath as she moved, adjusting herself and remaining at the ready to fight.

Another short post, but the author is also TIRED.
(Adelaide Hirano)
[16:25:32] Bober looked at the n-- black male with a fashionable afro, as well as some sunglasses that radiated 'swag'. Bober took a look down at his leg, it was still gone, his hope that it was all a dream was actually fake. This was the harsh reality, his leg was gone, his tail burnt to a crisp. These things angered him and gave him the willpower needed to push on and want to fight. To become stronger is what he wanted, that's why he came here after all, to get stronger and lead the Ookami race!

He eyed the blade on the back, Bober was sure he would get something from the fight and what he wanted was the blade on his back. He had already came this far and lost so much so he was prepared to get that fucking blade or die trying, 'yo'.

His fist rose to his face, he struggled to keep balance and he looked around at the group, everyone seemed ready and shit. So he just waited for the attack to start, he was going to try his best, even with one leg.
(Bober Jones)
[16:25:32] To each his very own, and to their very own came a very...different assortement of attire. Or lack there of, in this case. The demonic presence, felt through the righetous sense of honor and good, all revealed to be a mere radiation from someone such as this. This...afro hatted, black olive skinned, 'you gon eat yo cornbread' yokai. It looked like that thing lifted weights as a means to survive. That afro looked like a muscle all on its own.

It didn't seem to be joking around though. Not in the slightest. Whatever the case, he would step himself up to the charge, never one to run -away- from battle if he can help it.

''No, idiot. The side of justice is here to put a -stop- to your plans of continuation or anything like it. We're gonna blot you out like the growing flame you really are.''

It was perhaps a bit bold on his part. But..well, Aules was never one to conform or change.
(Aules Harn)
[16:27:15] Octavia's eyes widened for a moment as she grabbed onto the hilt of the staff, securing it tightly and just closing her eyes as she was trying to think of the good stuff that happened in the past outside of just the Alteros going into the deep abyss. It was basically the only thing that could keep her calm as she saw the terrifying imperfect and his guards.

With a flip of the staff, she pointed the edge to the ground as she frowned, the dark ember lightly filtering and wrapping around her frame as she was just praying to get out of this one alive and in one piece. She knew it wasn't going to happen that way, but it was okay to just hope that it could happen. . Right? His guards were dealt with, which meant that it was only him..

And whoo boy! She wasn't even glad it was just him and his yokai, she was only glad that there were people on her side that will be able to help stop the monster. Darkness had begun to loom on the surface of the ground as she was getting ready for one hell of a dance that would probably cost everything to the young dak magi.

"Don't die here. .Make the prediction wrong. .Make -it- wrong." Was the only thought that ran in her head.
(Octavia Ambrosia)

[16:31:31] Arsenic stepped forward, and, immediately, with the insinuation he was a bitch, here, in the tallest room of the...not-so-tall tower, he swings forward his sword.

This was absolutely maddening.

They had been beaten bloody and pushed to their limits as a team configuration by a demented african yokai(did africa even exist in Eternia?) His own life had been put at risk at various intervals in the conflict. What'd previously been dreams of conquering, dominating, had turned into mixed thoughts and a whole lot of room for inner reflection.

In order to re-enter hellstorm for what'd be the final time, he has to banish these thoughts. He has to eliminate all distractions. He has to-

Take this seriously.

He has to actually focus on defeating a black man with a giant cleaver who claimed to be the apex predator of yokai.

En garde.

Why did he ever leave Frostvale again?
(Arsenic)

{NARRATION} The fighting was brutal. Despite his appearance, the imperfect yokai became vicious in the fight. His sword sung malicious hymns with every cut, black earth corrupted underneath his feet. Though he appeared human, this demon was anything but. Winds cut like a gale through the air, assailing his foes. Darkness crept into both body and soul, terrible burns lashing against flesh and digging into the cuts of the furious windstorm. All the while the imperfects eyes glowed a bloody red behind those sunglasses. Eventually Amos'Thule and his last personal guard were defeating. The surviving yokai, hiding within the walls and across the corners of the room, too scared to fight even under the imperfects influence, let out a collective hiss. They attempted to flee down the stairs as the imperfect gasped, knocked away and bleeding against the wall. His sunglasses were cracked and his torso was torn by magic... yet his teeth were bared in a snarl. "So this is how it is, huh...?" he growled. "I'll see all of you in atmos one day, mark my words. Arimanes, you pretender-- don't think this is over." Despite his bold words, it looked... very much over. The imperfect retreated into his kaor blade, presumebly to be munched on by the imperfect in a moments time. The party was very much in tatters at this point. Octavia was assailed by a brutal gale that cut into her flesh, weakening her. It was more than physical; it was a curse, a restlessness just beneath her skin. (-10 vit). Lucien's arm shattered in a dozen places, barely recognizable with bone jutting out at terrible places. The bone in turn was scorched by darkness. The arm is effectively unusable and lost until a replacement or fix is made. Arimanes, being a yokai, spat at the trivial thought of lost limbs. The wind that assailed her however was on her league or beyond-- it festered within her wraithcloak like a constant itch, a curse that would need to be removed. -15 agility, no crit loss. And Adelaide... Blow against blow had clashed against Almace, a fury of death and destruction that the Champion of Valmasia stood tall against. But it was too much. She was gone.

[17:40:38] It was a wicked, brutal, hellish, nightmarish ordeal.

Despite the joking manner of his entrance, the fight with this yokai was anything but. It was a terrible, terrible battle, an endless onslaught leveled on them that razed the tower, tore the ground asunder, and sent them flying about the place like bouncy balls in the playpit of a childish God. They hadn't the slightest what they were fucking with when they ran in here.

They knew now.

One by one, they fall, and he does not pay attention. Cannot allow himself to stop in order to. His mentor goes down. Everyone goes down. It is him and Aules-- him who he knew best.

Aules goes down as well.

There is only Arsenic. Only the boy left with the will to render the prophetic vision he had at the start of it all to reality. He does not stand a chance against an Imperfect Yokai-- even worn out. This was so far beyond his league it was absurd. He hadn't the slightest chance in Hell of besting a Kaor Lord-- of fighting something all of his comrades and he had banded together, with him at the height of his game, with him empowered far beyond his usual limits, had failed.

And then he saw it.

The Kaor Lord, the Imperfect Yokai--

He was bleeding.

_______

If I can hurt it, it can bleed. If it can bleed, it can die. If it can die, I can kill it.

And there's no kill quite like overkill.

_______

Arsenic shouldered on with the last of his capacity- mana reserves tapped out. Every inch of him was screaming, demanding him to yield before what stood at the pinnacle of evolution. He lunges forward as it turns, and...

His blade embeds into Amos'Thule.

He twists, writhing it around, the last bit of lightning in his body, everything he could muster, all of his trials and tribulations for this moment. He gave it everything he had left in his pitiful, human, amateur body...

"...Let me show you..how a pro does it."

And made that fucker eat his words.

---

It died. They'd killed it. Everything around them was ruins. It stank of death and despair, even more than when they'd came. People had been scarred.

Possibly the greatest among them had died.

Arsenic stares at the unmoving form of Adelaide in absolute shock. He stands in a pack of corpses, knowing he is not the strongest, knowing he was not the fastest, not even the bravest or the boldest.

He is merely the survivor.

The dream...the dream of felling the yokai, of conquest, of his victory, it had come to fruition. But that dream? It had been twisted into a nightmare. Arsenic's eyes sweep across the cost of the battle, at the hordes of dead and the widowed husband, at Bober's one-legged form and the unmoving Aules...

And he screamed into the night, clutching his head as if in the greatest agony he would ever know.
(Arsenic)
[17:44:54] Party has disbanded.