Kishin found himself in his usual spot at the periphery of The Fractured Sky, a place of uncertainty and sacrifice. The surroundings were engulfed in darkness, the moonlight not even piercing through the thick clouds. It was nighttime, and the air was heavy with a sense of impending conflict. The only source of illumination was the smallest fire, crackling softly, casting flickering shadows on the stone bench where Kishin sat.

Positioned with his feet toward the fire, Kishin maintained a cautious stance, ready to spring into action at a moment's notice. His finger rested lightly on the trigger of his gun, a symbol of his reliance on items rather than pure magic. His true identity, that of a young aged lich, masked behind a lifeless visage, remained hidden from those around him. The mask served as a constant reminder of his own limitations, a reminder that he lacked the ability to wield better arcane forces that others possessed.

Observing the scene with a perverse sense of amusement, Kishin watched as people willingly surrendered their potential, their aspirations, and their very essence to the unknown depths of The Fractured Sky. They ventured into the black portals blindly, driven by avoiding reality, to shed their fragile lives. However, Kishin knew all too well that such a transformation was beyond the realm of possibility on a large scale. Still, he couldn't help but find it entertaining to witness the desperation and folly of those who sought such an impossible metamorphosis.

The fire before him seemed to flicker ominously, on the brink of extinguishing. Its feeble warmth barely penetrated the chilling night air. There was no wood left to feed it, no combustible material to keep it alive. All that remained was Kishin himself, a solitary figure surrounded by darkness and uncertainty. In this desolate setting, he reveled in the realization that he was the only source of fuel left, the only remaining object that could prolong the life of the dying flame. Every day, some people look to sacrifice all their potential to the great unknown, and they fail to get up again. He had seen this many times now, The End, the turning point to where everyone else but him lays down. Some people stay standing, but they are just hunched over with responsibilities and with no accountability. With his masked Lich face, it's not clear to who he's looking for, but he looks around each moment.

Kishin's gaze wandered before and behind, his masked eyes scanning the area, searching for any signs of movement, any indication that someone would venture close enough to become his unwitting prey. It was a game he had played many times before, hunting down those who emerged from The Fractured Sky, their spirits diminished, their will extinguished. But he craved more than just their defeat. He hungered for the taste of their despair, relishing in the knowledge that he alone had manufactured the challenges they faced. He had long since mastered his combat skills, honing his abilities beyond the confines of conventional adventurers. The world had become predictable, filled with opponents who relied on non-interactive gimmicks, unwilling to truly earn their victories. Kishin found pleasure in nullifying their defensive spells before they went into portals, reveling in the panic that ensued when their carefully crafted defenses crumbled before him.

As he sat there, the world around him seemed to grow thinner, its possibilities diminishing. The once vibrant bounty of adventurers had dwindled, with only a few notable figures remaining. Ikazuchi and Toge, renowned for their strength and resilience, were the sole remnants of a bygone era it seemed. To face adversaries of such caliber, to feel the thrill of battle coursing through his undead spirit, was a rare delight. He'd been here before routinely, another day of waiting to see if people will come in person to justify their gains from The Fractured Sky, or if he could prey on those at their lowest. For many, they'd come at night to hide their shame in this choice, and here they'd be unable to see at all to help their fear. Sometimes, Kishin hunts those that came out like him, but showed no spark, just false blights. With all the time in the world, Kishin had been thinking lately how he could shape his endless world.

The thought of Judith, a figure from his past who had tempered his bloodlust, briefly crossed Kishin's mind. It had been a long time since her presence had softened his insatiable appetite for chaos and destruction. The memory of her soothing influence lingered, but at any given moment, Kishin knew that he could succumb to the primal urges within him, allowing his bloodlust to consume him once again.

For now, he remained soothed, not needing to move much or interact. As an unending force, Kishin can only relish these moments. He'd watch people fall to the dirt, taste the tastier dirt, and Kishin enjoys the soil as he has always seen it. The Fractured Sky could give him anything, and it'd still be appropriate to laugh. For now, he doesn't need to move to speak or laugh. All he's waiting for is to see if people are afraid to get even close to him. The night air carried his whistle, a haunting melody of an old Stellan tune, a dirge for those who would inevitably meet their end in The Fractured Sky. It had been far too long since he had truly fed his insatiable hunger, his thirst for suffering and pain. The mere anticipation of the terror that awaited those who dared to draw near to him was enough to sustain him for the time being.

Intel:

Battle Log:

By now Jikan had gotten a bit use to the Fractured Sky area of Talaz Lagaar. By being ublucky she found herself being unhelpful in her quest of gaining favor with the inhabitants. Jo work had fallen into her hands and after dealing with the strange occurrence before in the land time just seemed, to pass by. In this motion of wandering examination, Jikan settled on discovering the area of the Fractured Sky. Her offering given but not settled on the deal. Feeling a ping of sensation telling her no. That it was not worth it, that something would be taken at too big of a cost.

A power system fueled by magical black holes by the word of the street she was hearing. The engineers that once created and maintained it now gone, the system continued to run by itself somehow. But due to its seriousness and unease of the scientists left, it seemed it was being left alone. Almost like on autopilot, if it did not break no one would bother with it.

A calm darkness, gentle piercing light,  and gentle clouds acting as cotton shields from above. The nighttime of this place could be soothing and eerie. As Jikan stepped with Mia accompanying her, the audible sounds of fire crackling and popping could be heard. She had plenty of her equipment on and even not, Mia was nearby to magically get them in Jikan instantly if needed. But for now

A being close to a fire was seen now. Feet out getting toasty by the fire. Only things able to be made out was their masculine frame. Face hidden along with his features behind a mask whistling.  Her cool blue green eye peeking out from her red and black hair to gaze at the being in wonderment. The red glow of her left eye side of her face hidden by the vain of her hair .

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Turned still, the masked man broke the silence, his voice carrying an air of detachment and resignation. "Have I interrupted your wandering? Please, sit down. I'm sitting too," Kishin invited. His request seemed to hold a strange allure, a beckoning to engage in a discussion that'd delve into the depths of futility and purpose, the sort of wanderings of life. He would not stall or attack, he only responds to the darkness.

Kishin continued, his words echoing with a touch of melancholy. "Reflect on futility with me and don't be a stranger. I've been thinking lately, I shouldn't define myself by charity quests, I should join a Dark Guild. I've seen so many die pointlessly, what's a few more to me? I'm so strong, and so meaningless." Kishin entreated, his voice devoid of urgency or emotion. There was a haunting quality to his words, as if the countless lives he had witnessed perish pointlessly had cast a shadow over his own sense of purpose. His voice betrayed a belief in his own strength, juxtaposed with the notion of his existence being ultimately meaningless. It was clear that the countless quests he had undertaken, often involving the eradication of enemies, had left a mark on his light.

He acknowledged his own strength, yet deemed it meaningless in the grand scheme of things. The significance of his power seemed to fade in a world where even multiple versions of himself would go unnoticed by any guild. His head lowered slightly, a symbol of his defeated posture, as if he were sitting on the floor in his own self-imposed isolation. The Fractured Sky had brought him here, not only to confront the darkness within himself but also to seek solace in the company of those who were not simply mutts.

The sight of his gun resting in his lap-hand might catch Jikan's attention, pointed toward them from the start, prompting Kishin to pose a question, his voice never betraying the masochistic pleasure he derived from such interactions. Kishin's words followed, his tone devoid of fear or intimidation. "Does my gun frighten you? Weapons are meant to be used. You can calculate the distance, speed, the output. I've thrown out jewels, tasted other rewards. This gun is for me and not to fight." he asked, almost as if challenging her to comprehend its true purpose, and the ending of Kishin's life. He dismissed the conventional notion of weapons being used solely for combat, people emphasizing their practicality.

Calculations are devoid of meaning, merely empty exercises that fail to fulfill the void within Kishin. There was a disconcerting aura surrounding Kishin, a man who seemed to revel in the contemplation of pain and suffering by his own hand, holding someone at gunpoint while speaking. To him, the world had lost its luster, material rewards mere trinkets that held no true value. His gun became a symbol of his own desires and inner struggles, a tool he claimed for himself rather than a weapon of combat.

"What do you think?" he inquired, his question hanging in the air and to Jikan in front of him. It was a call to delve into the depths of existential contemplation, to explore the weight of one's actions and the consequences they bore. Though lacking vocal cords as a lich, Kishin's voice carried a melancholic tone that hinted at the future he envisioned, where the fire is not the only light. It was a future colored by his own self-defeat, his masochistic tendencies, and a yearning for a purpose that remained elusive. In the desolate coffin of the Fractured Sky, Kishin sat, prepared to nullify spells and engage in conversations that reflected his inner turmoil, for there was solace in the shared contemplation of futility and meaninglessness. His masked face remained lowered, almost as if he were sitting on the floor despite being perched on the stone bench. It was an image that conveyed a defeated posture, a soul burdened by the weight of existence.

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The aching well of despair and unease wss ever o resent in this place. The call of the otherside seemed to swell and flow like a crashing tune. Wavering here and to in its steady song. As Jikan's eyes and interest settled onto this human being, the first step of thr passage of time occurred. Conversation. The man's voice came emptiness, dejection, and defeat. Was he a person that sacrificed to the vail and lost more than he bargained for?

"No. I am moving without a purpose right now. Only to enjoy calmness and pass time", Jikan responded plainly  at the man's question to her. Then at his bequest she gave him a longer look. One of consideration  for the briefest of moments.

Sadness. Stillness and  distant. No connection felt for some reason as if she was looking at an object.  She chose to sit. Placing herself on the far side of the bench next to the man. The silent exceed,  Mia. Still by her side as she was placed on Jikan's side away from Kishin.

"My oh my, you sound like a sad broken man. Where are your friends?", Jikan pondered out loud hearing man's statement. Her voice a mix of a question and a distant observer. "Such a topic to talk about with strangers. Such an odd man you are".

Really. Who does this? Jikan would hace thought he had been drinking, but she hadn't smelled a drop of alcohol on him. She laughed. A scoff of disbelief and amusement. "Really? Join a dark guild over such a childish feeling? Your own character, morality. That declares the line of such alignment. Being bored or aggravated with charity work is such a weak mindset", Jikam said finding the man's thoughts pitiful. No smile, scowl, anger or emotion in her vocal tone though as she spoke. "Revenge, greed. A lust for destruction. A glee for committing murder or enjoyment of criminal crimes. Such are the things that exist in the shadows of a dark guild's curtain. Reasons that make one's heart darker. Apathy or despair of people dying or killing people if needed for a job most certainly doesn't make you evil or a dark mage. Just one that not chained by the fairytale images of humanity", Jikan said pointing a finger at the man. As if to his heart for him to look within perhaps.

"That is a simple fact of reality. Death and killing happens such as protection and birth. If you have such a weak will then you are truly not as strong of a person as you need to be", it was irksome. For one that felt her only issue with good mages were their lack of resolve to kill in order to protect people or get important missions of conflict done. If such action like he spoke made ine evil then she was truly wicked!

Even in her response and calm demeanor, the obvious ans open gun resting in his lap and hand was caught by her. With an open weapon pointed towards her since the beginning of their conversation. The stop and gathering of attention. If she could give an amused coo to the ears it would most certainly be the sound she have off right now. No fear. No wrath. A calmness that was a bit, alerted, to the
masochistic pleasure in his voice. "What is a weapon but a tool? Drawn or not it is empty and exists to be fulfilled by something else. Tell me, what is injury? Loss? Death? Such things left my worry a long time ago", Jikan shifted her legs. Placing one over another in a strange confort. Eagerness even. "A tool is only as good and purposeful as it user. So tel me, with the distaste of jobs, an meaningless strength that you speak of. Of no right to take or protect life. What. Is the purpose of your gun? A flashy toy??". Her words came strange. Knowingly or not a challenge to see what one life was. Its fruit bear or the seeds planted.

Post 688
First post 318
Total social 1006

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In Kishin's perspective, a gun embodies a formidable threat. Similar to his encounters with Esperia, he merely sets the pace, leveraging his experience against stronger opponents. He believes the stronger ones tend to complicate matters, struggling to identify their true strengths. For Kishin, the world is an ongoing journey towards resolution, inexorably leading to death. He perceives family, morals, and assistance as elements that convolute the path to righteous determination. Even summons and pets can further muddy the clarity of combat, serving as multipliers that confuse the enemy. However, with a clear picture in mind, Kishin embraces a resolute focus devoid of ambiguity.

Positioned at a distance of three meters, Kishin seizes the opportune moment when Jikan's attention is diverted by the lowering guard at their leg and mental crossing. The bench, more akin to a floor, limits Jikan's mobility, leaving them vulnerable to Kishin's interruption. Expertly alternating between targeting Jikan's neck and heart, Kishin fires his gun, intending to embed magical shrapnel into Jikan's body continuously. This trigger is triggered by his mental resolve alone, his only requirement for action. However, almost ironically, Kishin casually shifts his foot, extinguishing the flames in an instant and fate itself snuffs out the dying fire beforehand as well.

Nullifying any spells cast by Jikan, Kishin's perception cuts through the darkness, discerning spell circles and subtle movements with ease. The broken man, long trapped within his own shattered shell, no longer indulges in the shallow darkness. Gazing upon his own painting of mortality, Kishin embraces the deepest shade of black it yearns to become. Having traversed a path littered with darkness, he has come too far to accept any other shade. Otherwise, he would not have risked venturing into The Fractured Sky. Though he may not chase after what lies ahead, his steps may be slow, but his mind is the swiftest.

"I fear myself. Where are your friends?" Kishin addresses Jikan calmly, unperturbed by being looked to as a child. He had relinquished his friends, they will find him on his death, what of Jikan? Patiently waiting until Jikan is rendered neutralized after the Death Tarot, he chooses his words with care. At this point, only The World holds the power to save them. Recognizing the perfection of the infant mind, he harbors a hope to witness vengeance unfold. The notion of protection crosses his mind, concurring with Judith's sentiment that he takes pleasure in guarding. "I am not here to meet my demise. I am here to engage in a dance with death." The Talaz Lagaar plague, often disregarded by foreign entities without consequence, ensnares souls solely through the crucible of battle. Kishin has not come to fight; he has come to execute. His presence in Talaz Lagaar is solely to extract terror.

If Kishin were to eliminate Jikan, would it be the words of their guild or the voices of the people that would avenge her? Jikan's lack of proficiency in teamwork is an art that Kishin admires in Jin Tatsumi. The clarity of focus becomes obscured, diluted by the mingling colors picked up from their sparring sessions. Rising to his feet, Kishin would walk Jikan down, leaving behind a trail of blood hidden on his seat. Upon first sight, he had recognized Jikan Supēsu. Most individuals do not have the luxury of choosing when they meet their demise, but Jikan presents a purpose devoid of wonder. Before him stands a being akin to a wandering flesh bag, akin to Esperia. Despite accepting the threat Jikan poses, Kishin nullifies any inclination to avoid the forthcoming battle, embracing the inevitable: Death, Nihlatak, The Truth. Positioned as the underdog, he strikes when distraction beckons, allowing the battle to unravel the tale it yearns to tell. As a primal sensation of imminent mortality permeates the air, his words emerge.

"I'm delighted that you agree. I'll go kill your kids and family first as my baptism," Kishin remarked with a touch of satisfaction. He believed it was his duty to protect the legacy and spirit of those he encountered. Just as fire is discovered by men but ultimately belongs to nature, Kishin saw himself as a catalyst rather than the one who fans the flames of light. He had discovered someone famous. He says what's only right, to eliminate their progeny, yet he speaks to keep their spirit alive. Men can discover fire, cuddle toward it's warmth and be burned by it, but nature produces the fire. A strong fire is unfair, inopportune, to be grasped on to.

"You are destined to meet your end, amen, but have you considered the loneliness your absence will bring to those you protect? A parent whose sole purpose is their children leaves behind a void. Fight at your guild? I'll kill you, then it. You have found the warrior death. Or strike me down with your shallow resolve," Kishin spoke with a contemplative tone, questioning the purpose that remains when one's sole focus is taken away. He tested his words, allowing the emotions to build and the cynicism to take hold. Having loose religious beliefs from his time in Fiore, he viewed life from a different perspective.

He'd nip any righteous plots that may arise. He challenged Jikan to question what they truly desired to gain. Was it everything? But could they handle it? Kishin saw a lost soul in Jikan, another teleporter not ready for backlash. He aimed to transform Jikan's life in this very moment, not in abandoned buildings or hollow words. One day, there will be nothing left of the guilds by ego death. On this dead flame, there needs to be sacrifices made and a decision on what Jikan wants to take from Kishin.

"I win, you live, I shall lead you. However, you cannot truly end my existence, which means there is no victory for you ever. I will continue to haunt your family as I recover years, or become more immortal," Kishin stated, acknowledging the uncertainty regarding how Jikan treated their family. He believed in a meritocratic system and was not joking about joining their guild, albeit as the leader. He questioned whether the guild could accept internal conflicts and members raiding one another, or if it was merely a Dark Guild in name, full of sparring dummies.

"Reassess your will to fight, lost soul, or return home and embrace a life of joy with your family. A renowned guildmaster finds fulfillment in such endeavors," Kishin urged Jikan to reconsider their path, to let go of the burdens they carried. He suggested that Jikan should lie down, and although they should not respond to his words, Kishin believed it was a signal for them to reflect. "But you? You can simply rest, free from the burdens of responsibility. You have the opportunity to reform and embrace the light," Kishin had already made up his mind about these matters. He intended to instill a sense of ego death within Jikan, pushing them to the brink of surrender, where they could either accept their greatest loss at the hands of the lowly-ranked Kishin or rise as a good hero.

"I can only null some spells, and it reveals your true nature. I am but a weak and transient being on a brief pause in my journey. Give me excitement in your peaceful embrace of the Talaz Lagaar labs, much like Esperia. If I cannot enhance your abilities, perhaps someone else will." Kishin's words cut through the air, a mix of resignation and determination. He acknowledges his limitations as a mortal and alludes to a different path, one free from the chaos of battle. Jikan's rejection of glory without bloodshed resonates with Kishin. He admires Jikan's refusal to be swayed by superficial pursuits, choosing a path that eschews violence and seeks a different kind of fulfillment. Behind their clean path, they leave dirtiness. He believes that true strength and worthiness are revealed through perseverance and struggle. His words challenge Jikan to rise above doubts and embrace death. Jikan rejects the Sky. All the glory, none of the gory. Kishin processes his strong ego like a match ready to jump at the earliest interruption. As the tides turn, all Jikan will do is find shelter in their own emptiness.

"Fight another day, embrace the cycle of life and death." Kishin's voice takes on a philosophical tone. He urges Jikan to find renewal and transformation through the ever-repeating cycle of existence. His words convey a belief in personal growth and the power to redefine oneself. The world has so much to say of his destiny that he has so little attachment to now. He regards Jikan as dryness yearning for purpose, like a parched soul seeking water. Kishin, as a lich, lacking conventional emotions and pleasures, observes and understands the desires and struggles of others. There is a touch of empathy in his perception, recognizing the human longing for meaning in the ocean. His focus lies in fulfilling his role, rather than dwelling on individual polluted desires or aspirations. Kishin acknowledges the messiness and sacrifices that accompany the pursuit of ambitions.

Kishin remains alert and ready, never fully resting, as he strategically had positioned his magic mask to maximize his advantage. The normal people believe in brawls. He'd been lowering his head with purpose, sacrificing no urgency in his movements. With his mask in close proximity at Jikan all times, any attempt to approach would expose them to its limb-crippling effects. Even his distinct walking style, reminiscent of a duck-turtle, keeps him grounded and steady to snap. In the darkness, Jikan's struggles would only lead to the loss of feeling in their Mero Gauntlet arm, without direct contact. Slow and deliberate, Kishin maintains control.

Having disabled Jikan, Kishin places an open hand on their other arm and begins applying pressure, crunching it. If Jikan is not already disabled, their impending fight in close quarters with hindered limbs and impaired vision would render their martial arts skills laughable. To depict this, Kishin's hand mimics a snapping motion. "Don't cry. You don't need this arm anymore either. You only need one hand to conquer this world, and it's mine. Is it truly more valuable than a Nullification Mage?" Releasing his grip slightly, he observes any signs of regret. "Or maybe I should never have come, for you seem afraid of the real battles and victories." If Jikan appears receptive, Kishin lowers his head to their motionless body and begins ripping off their arm, to hear the whispers. "Instead of suffering in silence, speak. Let out every name of those you wish dead for the sake of this arm." Pulling his head back slightly, he adds, "Except me, of course. It would be rather hurtful, and you can save that for later." He then gently shifts Jikan's body once more off him, seemingly offering support and hinting at a partnership. But his true motive is to remind them of the real offer.

"I didn't acquire this gun for the sake of targeting people or creatures; I keep it close for special occasions," Kishin remarks, stepping out of his defensive t-bag stance. In a sudden, impulsive act, he executes and shoots at Mia in the encompassing darkness, causing Jikan to likely be left bewildered and bleeding after opening their heart. It is a moment of character development and a glimpse into the fragile state of both individuals. Somehow, they will both survive. Finally rising to a full walk, the lich gazes ahead, contemplating whether he must look back to play catch up or continue pushing forward. Regardless of the opponent, Kishin will always find a way to try, even if it means compromising his morality and existence. He had already presented the prepared offer, encompassing individuals of all genders and ages. The value of his immortality lies solely in the challenge it presents, and he will perpetually witness others fade away. To those who dare to peek into the realm of fate, attempting to decipher its mysteries in advance, they shall encounter death—an inevitable encounter, a harbinger of finality. When the whispers cease, a sigh fills the air, and silence arrives hand in hand with the reaper's decisive strike.

(Attempted exit)

Intel:

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If there was one of a few things Jikan was always keen on, was the eeriness of people who were more than happy to keep it presented out and about for all to see. His voice, his body languages hunched over in apathy. The gun pointed at her throughout their whole 'conversation'. A lack of fear was strangely present in the Amazon. But strangely in such an intense situation that would have given her a sense of excitement. There was nothing. An emptiness. A stillness waiting, a canvas. A zen filled with anything but a lack of mental guard or awareness was not by the largest means simply by talking to someone. Especially one with a drawn weapon. And so as Jikan faced the situation of being confronted interestly verbally and then physically by a being she had already seen a weapon drawn on her with only 3 meters separating them. Well, she wasn't surprised one bit by the attempt on her life. Taking it as a sign of an ambush or threat that she would immediately respond to the moment when his leg went to kick out the fire. And with her sharp dragon slayer nose. His scent was the only one she could tell of that was different here. The smell of decay. A liche. A thing she had noticed long ago but chose no care for. All that mattered was the clash now!

Using the one leg against the floor as a starting motion to her lunge, Jikan was more than happy to move towards the man in a lunge in an attack traveling 20 meters per second the moment Kishin's foot moved to kick the fire out. Hitting the man before he followed up with his planned actions that occurred after he kicked the fire out. A layer of fire immediately formed 1 meter away from her body on all sides in that second as she moved. A swelling ball of fire danced with intensity as it crashed against Kishin's body armor dealing 3xS damage and burning the armor.

Lighting up the area in a bright flame the sight of the being before Jikan was all the more clear and precise. While doing this movement in an attempt to attack. Jikan's right arm that held up Mero Gauntlet would come up as she moved as well. Using her weapon, arm, and very body to protect the vital organs of her body area in a hardened knowledge and instinct over decades of battle, hunting, and mercenary work. His weapon had been out and out towards her this whole conversation after all, and at this point regardless if her attack landed or worked she did have to have protective measures for her body.

The flames exploding out as Jikan as its epicenter covering all her enemies 25 meters upon impact. Burning the bench the three were on but strangely avoiding Mia as if it knew she was someone Jikan wanted to protect. Although the one facing its wearer was not an ally and would suffer all of the Amazon's wrath. The flames would burn onto the rest of Kishin's armor and equipment, dealing 2xS damage to each if her attack wasn't nulled. If it was, it would be fine and well, for the movement of her lunge would be done with her left hand coming out in an open palm bash to Kishin's body, dealing 2xS to the armor in an attempt to grip him.

Her responsive attack would come before his attack as his actions pertained to kicking out the fire first. A smart move. Sight and awareness was crucial in combat. No matter the fact of physical strength or magical ability. It was a thing normal people had to work about. [0]

Normal people unlike herself.

With the sounds and sight of the fire fading in that moment the scared exceed would immediately act in the worst case understanding. A fight was going to happen! Immediately, the magical bag's magic would be used by Mia to immediately equip Jikan's helmet to her friend. If the burning flames from Jikans attack were still alive then some semblance of sight would be given, making it easier and possible to see Kishin especially in this close distance. But that would be no matter for her due to the fact that she still had her impressive sense of smell and the hearing that anyone could use.

As Kishin let loose his magic bullet it seemed like she was about to get hit! The bullet coming out in its shining mana before… Jikan opened her mouth as she continued her relentless resistance. When his bullet came for her neck, the arcane bullet immediately was broken down in an instant and absorbed as mana for her. Her right arm still holding up her Mero Gauntlet in a guard to her body's vital organs, still weary of any other weapons this strange liche may have concealed. Her left hand never stopped its pursuit of action though. Instead if it was successful in striking and gripping Kishin's body, to keep his position mobile. She would show the fierce strength that gave some realm of respect to the Amazon dealing damage as she moved.

Her left arm then would come up in a swift fierce upward strike to Kishin's arm dealing and destroying the ice armor. Crashing through the armor's remaining durability to deal damage. Knocking the intended blow aimed for her body, possibly out of aim for Jikan's body. If not, and the second magic attack still went towards Jikans body. It would find its target Jikan's Mero Gauntlet weapon. Dealing a total 1xA to the melee weapon. With the short distance and the man choosing to be on the bench still without motion. He would have to be most certainly faster and a bit lucky in his delayed response to avoid her strike. Or have to result in adjusting his body's positions and movements in a retreat if he chose so most likely. For the Amazon's wrath was unleashed now!!  She wouldn't let up on him, on her attacks or her absorption of those arcane magic bullets within her reach.[1]

Lunging closer to him if he moved, both feet on the ground now. She would pursue again if he ran away while in one motion ready to absorb any arcane blasts from his gun while attempting to cut at him. If her hand did break through his defenses she would make it easy for him. Gripping his damaged gun hand while it was still pointed away from her in a vice grip. Squeezing hard to unleash 3xS to the limb. Stopping his planned gun strike and his follow up actions and attacks. [2]

--- this point here ends. As I believe Jikan would avoid the vital hits and not be down. Causing Kishin to not approach and do the dialogue. Issue wise is that in such case Jikan's actions towards that options that were planned for later wouldn't exist and can't occur. Causing Kishin to do different things from there.---

In his test of mettle and skill. Of his desire to torture the mind and very spirit. There was a wonder in it, was this the mad shell of the man or the man bearing fruit of his deepest being??

If the source of light went away it was well for her still. Her speed hunting him. Her hearing, and nose unrelenting. Accurate. A dragon's nose would hunt its target without mercy. Even if he was undead. Even if he was working in the night like a ghost. There were things he simply couldn't take away. The sound of his body moving. The smell of him, his being and person acting like a signature to the animal kingdom. The sounds of his release of his magic in those bullets that did some positioning in her mind like that of a canvas being painted. All ready to throw a vicious kick to his unguardable side as soon as she reached him again if he was conscious.

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Mana: 10,600 / 11,100 maybe more

Kishin's bloodlust gradually subsides, bringing a sense of clarity and sobriety to his mind like his past battle. The intensity of the battle fades, replaced by a somber realization of the gravity of the situation. As he gazes upon Jikan, he can't help but notice their seemingly nonchalant demeanor, as if their life is not at stake in this deadly encounter. A mixture of curiosity and exasperation fills Kishin's thoughts, understanding that once again, he's about to evoke anger from someone who refuses to acknowledge the danger they're in. Jikan's choice to sit down and cross their legs appears as a momentary retreat from the harsh reality. The fire had been small, and with no combustion nearby the blindness will persist. Kishin's presence presents multiple options to Jikan: allies, leadership, retirement, capture, or perhaps death with their companion and dragged out of the area. Or all of the above. The blindness caused by the absence of combustion persists, yet Jikan seems unfazed, almost detached from the imminent danger. It is a perplexing sight for Kishin, who expected a heightened sense of urgency or a surge of adrenaline in the face of a life-threatening situation.

With a swift interruption, Kishin had aimed his gun and fired, piercing Jikan's vitals, even if their weapon attempts to block the attacks. The fire spell Jikan initiates is swiftly nullified by Kishin's mastery of Nullification Magic. It's a testament to his skill and experience, nullifying their attempts effortlessly and any spells Jikan tries. Despite Jikan's proximity, Kishin's ruthless positioning and tactical awareness grant him an advantage in close combat. His low stance and leverage provide stability and control, enabling him to respond swiftly to any further advances. In street fights, props are a tool and not a weakness. The mask remains closer to Jikan, and with the mask avoided Kishin will have the upper-hand to react, even without an attempt at wrestling with one arm blocking vitals.

As the dust settles, Kishin speaks, his voice tinged with a hint of resignation. "My choice to engage in conflict does not stem from weakness or a thirst for power. I have invested myself in acquisitions that extend beyond personal worth." The words hang in the air, emphasizing the depth of his motivations, which go beyond simple self-interest. Though his resources may appear limited, relying on the bare essentials, Kishin remains confident in his ability to overcome adversaries.

"I smell fear," he states, his words carrying a mixture of observation and acknowledgment. There is no math in death. Kishin has honed his senses over time, able to discern the subtlest cues that reveal the emotions of others. He detects an undercurrent of fear emanating from Jikan, perhaps masked beneath their facade of indifference. It's a scent that lingers, a sign that his presence and actions have made an impact. With a final gaze directed at Jikan, Kishin chooses to disengage from the confrontation, taking deliberate steps backward. The air thickens with a sense of unresolved tension as he retreats, leaving Jikan to grapple with their own choices and actions.

(exit)

Intel:

Battle Log:

Mechanical ruling and other note:

Pre post :

With a deep breath feeling the las blow land onto Kishin's liche form. Jika took a sharp exhale as she let the skeleton body under a flesh vessel mask of illusion fall to the ground in an unconscious state. Her hands reeked of its smell. The decay and dark magic. The gray of magic that was the shadow to the light. The needed in balance. His scent was heavy, a thing Jikan could hardly imagine ever forgetting. How could she? With the death if Odin it was thought such creatures were outside existence now.

But here they were, human facing the aftermath of being in front of one. Of combating with him. Although…

…for some reason it did nothing.

No joy from the thrill of combat. No sense of growing stronger. Not even a shaking anger of emotions. Just an aching nagging at the folds of her mind. The rushing waves of adrenaline coming down from its high. A cool calmness that bordered on the line of emptiness coming once again.

What was his aim in terror on this day? And what with her?? Was it to capture her for the money on her head and the corrupt as well as dirty people in power that wanted their revenge? Was it to kill her and leave the ones she watched over more helpless and dependent on others? To Paradise Dawn? Jikans left hand gripped in a tight hold thinking of them.

Was this man just a weapon seeking destruction? Did he want to lead the world into another down wave? Could she use him? Would she? With how he acted it was much more likely to point him in a direction indirectly. Directly couldn't be trusted with the likes of him.

She turned away then if the liche was truly down and picked Mia up. Holding her close to her bosom as a chill was strangely felt. As if harm could and would have come from her precious friend. Maybe….going out together in such areas wasn't a good idea anymore? No matter how strong Jikan got she always felt like she was weak. That she could and needed to get stronger. To get more to hold and protect everything. The words and whispers still held In his mind. The threat to her adopted offspring of all things. Of her family. Which one? The faces of them came. Amira. Klein. Aurelia.  A subtly bit lip came as she hurried. Some of her blood family had this as well but by Illumin it was such a small way in comparison to the size of the household that she was practically emotionless to them.

Stronger. More prepared. That's what she needed to be.

That all of them needed to be. Her focus wasn't shaken or dulled by any means.

It was sharpened and refined on this day.

(Exit)

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