“Another one?” His voice spoke, with the doors creeping light against him. “And so soon.”

Chains would release from the skin of the wrist, a large door undoing itself as if to beckon the man out — solemn clouds blew wind overhead, and the heaven’s struck out against the arena in the wake of blustering reproach; warning the privileged audience of what they’d sought in sights of entertainment, the curse in the form of man, shaped like a shadow in the worst of dreams.

He was a blackened figment in the worst’s mind, in loose-fitted, drapes like those shades dwelling in the Abbysal pits, and hooded so that all his human measures were gone, stripped far from reach. He took steps against drifting orange sand on his climb to the arena from the gates, accustomed to silence, his boots beat a path in the dirt which left prints behind his wake; until he smashed against the first solid step of concrete and up until he was level with the arena’s floor.

He was a mass of shadow— and had always been remembered by it, something otherworldly when it should stare you down. He represented everything that was blind in this world, the society hidden within the fantasy.

Not quite demon, but apart of the many faces of humanity — and yet, none that struck the same; especially when paired against an inferno dragon slayer — a light, standing strong like a castle in the opposing coliseum — a gate between freedom and banishment for someone like Erebus. The rogue looked upon Toga with a respect, but also, none could respect something such as the foe Toga was set against — as if he had been a hero with that aura once too, in the respect of the cheers, Erebus was pleased to be in the company of another blade master.

The hooded visage nodded, but he would not spend so much mercy after the games would begin.

After all, when Erebus arrived to scenes such as this — uncomfort and disabling trembles affected the worrisome. The mothers’ of sons bit their lips with unease; and the daughters of man shielded their virgin eyes of terror, casting them down upon the stadium rows and their husband’s if they so had any.

Surely, Erebus was an all-together legend, but different kind of enigma than one represented by most, one that bled and cried on the very sword he was left carrying — from one disaster into the next. It’s black metal— cleaned of life which it had eaten from others, and it’s hooked maw— a ripping edge like those of fanged beasts, a sight that told gruesome stories about monsters of incomprehensible strengths.

If there was ever a test for one — in their pursuit of the blade? Erebus was among the very greatest names, he was not one that was slept over in ease. Only the fables of heists and legendary struggles at the farest stages drew his reputation to be the mountain that it was today.

“I am the one who learns their names— and I see— the crowd knows of yours— Tōga.” — his voice traveled to the Dragon Slayer, penetrating the air from places so deep — you could have imagined they were buried under the ocean, so rare and far between.

In times of need, when the republic of Seven would pay handsomely to the crown, Fiore would open its prison walls to one lone fallen champion - a tormented soul of dark gods. Testing the might and mettle of other legendary warriors was his late destiny, and because they came, he still breathed.

Surrounded by the noise, the cries, and invigoration of hostility, his spirit came back to life— enabling his sickened, blackened heart to breathe life into this banished husk. The rogue pondered the movements of Toga. Whether he would draw a hasty attack and intercept, or allow the criminal his choice of word or woe in the setting of this place.

Erebus hammered in the nail with his words in finality. Left just forty meters shy of standing in front of the Dragon Slayer— face to face.

Death he hath become, some called his vessel a working zombie, and his eyes, hidden under that dark veil, only glowed gold when it hungered for the strength of another— as if to command something else beyond just the shadows as one would guess, and it moved from Toga; and towards the endless fans, and friends, who came to enjoy their Dragon Slayer’s great spectacle and the warmth of his star.

When Erebus spoke again; they would know that it was time to get started, and as before— all would hear his whisper as an infestation breaching their thoughts, somehow reaching the ear and passing through the minds of the wicked.

He was a haunt upon these people. These folk who thirsted for a good show, and they loved to hate him— it was so: as above, and as below.

For his audience, the transgressors, fickle-minded watchers in the stadium. He let the words drip out, not so unlike the venom coating his dark weapons. “Yes… Cling to what is good, hate what is evil. We should honor one another.” He let out, his voice echoing, and in his memory of war torn pasts, he felt the burning anger return to him. “I welcome you!”

Ere’s feet then picked up— dragged at an alarming pace, thrusting a storm of speed behind two legs— blurring speeds... His grace for battle was not something so easy, even for the keenest eyes to track.

If nothing else— Erebus would have ran forth in that moment, and sliced from side to side at reaching Toga, his last step, from one side of Toga, to another would have looked so instant, the audience would be privy not to blink, or risk missing everything. A simple two-swing combo, with the pressure of a raging typhoon.

Gear:

Combat Log:

WC: 965

The whistling air was enough for Erebus, with his blade missing their mark he watched Toga’s body bounce back, and with his leg at rotation to pivot, Erebus maneuvers forth to shorten distance, he spreads his legs as if one large step before adjusting for the upward diagonal strike, extending his off-hand forward to catch and parry. In symbolic terms, it as if he was reaching a hand out for Toga, before a brutal sequence of actions would go off at high speeds between both of them.

Pushing forward with his short lunge, Erebus was impressed by his opponent’s timing, but when it comes to speed— Erebus is slightly at an advantage and would prove there is merit to his legacy as well, and physically speaking— Erebus is more dominant in physical Strength.

His voice is deep and ill like the times of current; “Have at it then!” he would receive the swordsman well, as the Zangetsu chipped damage against his gauntlet, Erebus slaps it away with the outreached hand. However with that left hand, wrapped in dark and red spires and blackened smoke, he appeared to open-hand clap against it, narrowly avoiding the piercing edge and making contact with the side-surface. He thrusted against the Zangetsu, slapping it up with his momentum already moving and nudging it off track, as it travels to the side of Erebus’ shoulder— barely missing it’s mark there whereas Erebus is closing distance in the same manner.

His physical prowess in the parry made Zangetsu splinter off course and to the side of the both himself and the Dragon Slayer, as if to parallel Toga’s actions— Erebus pivoted in the same direction swiftly, and as a Grandmaster— his sword strike swings were fast and precise. So fast, and to their point, that he was able to put his sword in the way as Toga lashed with his spare sword. It smashinged against dark hook sword, creating energy and static between them. The Kimetsu and himself were only kept segregated by the addition of the Dark Hook Sword in the middle. The end of the kimetsu would meet Erebus near the cross guard, but his unorthodox movements would confound the Dragon Slayer who might not have seen the action coming as he attempted to strike.

Erebus wasn’t aiming anywhere, simply defending, but his knowledge of blades was at a genius level, in point blank radius the lower shin was exposed and Erebus’ weapon was designed to reel in whatever it might latch aside of. Treating his defense now as his offense in the same frame of second. Erebus pushed and pulled the sword like a saw against Toga— either catching him below the knee, or severely scarring up his knee with a seeping pestilence.

Erebus would feel his mana drain in a short burst— one could always feel it leave them, and it was not a new feeling for Ere, such was inevitable, but Toga would also feel the exact same feeling, originating off Ere’s sword.

From the clash before. Erebus thrusted his sword-hand low— towards Toga’s lower right leg, picking it up if he could latch around with it’s razor hook, the teeth able to casually pass through armor and harm victims beneath.

Yanking his sword backwards, made it function as a pulley— tugging Toga st the whims of the mass of blackness, and eliminating the option to step back again without severely offsetting his balance— in the same moment, the Kimetsu had only just slammed into the side his black steel blade. But the strength would not be ferocious enough to halt Erebus in his actions either. The moment Toga would react, his foe would already be primed to withdraw in this clashing.

Rising with the sun, Erebus reversed his flow of motion and rotated left, clinging his sword to Toga— it would thrust his body mass around roughly, as Erebus pulls Toga like a mule with his force added to his own back step— Toga would be facing his draped figure once more.

If Toga was put on his back from jerking with the direction he was shifting— Erebus would flicker away in the frame of that action, disappearing in a mass of black shadows and wisps. Spawning instantly at his distance, 25m from their prior standing point. If successful, his attacks were to act like interceptors and his swing speed which was 2x that of a Master swordsman— would be realized, a seasoned Grandmaster— with sharp, poisoning draw— a passive power added to his weapons circulating off the old tarnished crown adorning the prisoner’s head.

~At a distance, and after the disappearance act~

“… I do like that spirit of yours. It is inspiring in harsh times, and yet not concerned with consequences, honed and sharp like your swords. This is good.” Erebus voiced with an interest. “But you require more hate— life isn’t so promised for those like us. Hatred is salvation, we were given this exemption from decency to fight back against what is wrong with reality— in time, you shall know this is true.” He’d insight with each word laced between short bodily actions— such as his blade rotating functionally in his grasp; a token of merit, he was getting warmed up, and knew Toga had some tricks up his sleeve. Erebus was planted in place, awaiting the coming onslaught— his stance was readied defensively.

——

Combat Log:

Spells:

MANA: 4000/4750
WC: 894

The response of Toga, prompted Erebus to move again. His sword hand stabbing the earth ruthlessly, he shoves it into the concrete breaking the foundations beneath his strength— forking it there. A blast of light would sputter and burn towards Erebus; as the draped warrior’s knee bent and kissed the ground in a crouched state, and he tucked his head of the very light harmed his senses—

A faint glimmer of green light would provoke the guantlet on his arm to disappear. Replaced by a wide and circular shield that covered his body while taking a knee— positioned over the front of the sword which was now his anchor against the ground, hiding his form behind it. The wave of static and light slamming brutally against its frame nigh as instant as Erebus ducked for cover— and had Erebus not pushed the metal through concrete beforehand, the intense winds and force would have thrown his human-form backwards with a ruthless detonation in front of himself. But he managed to stay put, and protect himself from the damage as it collided roughly into the Spellpuller.

In the same instance, Toga roars like forward, taking off to make back stolen distance —poised to slam his sword down upon Erebus.

“Indeed. Hatred,” He said, as he finally took in a breath— Erebus could feel the warm sensation of the blast cooling after it heated the air around them upward... in the same moment; the Zangetsu would be coming down to pierce him, Erebus shot back to his feet as the blade was drawing near— and a sudden collision with Erebus’ shield, staged in front of the attack now, rolled the sword off to the side with his step tracking each movement with Toga’s, upon the shield— rough damage upon the item was evident with cracks beginning to show already, though it stood the test of endurability.

Ripping the teeth of his blade from the ground there, Erebus maneuver’s the sword pommel to throw rocks and dirt up towards the eyes of Toga. The rogue had aimed from down low, carrying his sword in a horizontal sweeping motion upward, trajectory in rapid speed to catch Toga right beneath the waist at his belt-line and push off against him as it would phase-in ghostly through his armor and draw blood if it were successful.

He pushed backwards that action, moving his feet, the movement of course— was made to create a distance out of direct point blank radius, and protect himself from the Kimetsu, which hadn’t lashed out just yet, but was still there. Something Erebus couldn’t let slip his awareness after feeling the power of that previous spell collapse down on him.

“Certainly.. It is a salvation… There might be nothing more peaceful to some, than being a tranquil bystander, but for me? I have always despised such things. I loathed the rich— it was hatred that gave me my power, strength in place of nothing, it protected my friends when they were still with me. It freed me from the Abyss— where you can go no where except deeper into your own hell, there is no righteousness there for the fight like you’ll find here. Only damnation, and torment. That which makes us feel the most alive, is the victory that we fight for on this plane; imagine fighting and knowing there will be no victory for you. Your cherished people, dead and gone, but their hatred has become your own... There must always be those who will take up the fight for this world, no matter how ill they are perceived or viewed at the end of time, if there aren’t, our humanity in it’s grace is lost somewhere between regret, despair— ‘Should I have done this?’ Or ‘Perhaps there was a better solution? .. No.’ Humanity never gets a second chance to undo or retrace its steps. That is why the mortality of our people makes us so beautiful— to these demons, and these gods, their angels. We’re on borrowed time, Dragon Slayer— we only get one shot. So what are you going to do with yours?” The cloaked figure shared— no stutter or hesitation in his dark voice, speaking through every action his body had undergone and through each back-step needed to hold the Dragon Slayer just shy of his intentions; Erebus also maintained a standing ovation, as the crowd roars at the sight of Toga’s power, and Ere’s ability to take it and keep going, from one thunderous attack into the next, and those things which may still be coming or hadn’t fully departed the arsenal of his foe.

—

Combat Log:

MANA: 3750/4750

A burst of orange flames, flickered through the air. Burning rocks and dirt while Erebus’ feet walked back, his sword smashing into what he could imagine was a force of hot-pressurized mana. A solid defense. Erebus commended the pace at which they were going.

He watched the shadow of his opponent dance behind the air-licking fires, he realized that the distance is being closed already, as the fire dissipates and revealed Toga in midst of an attack— one capable of completely taking his arm off if he didn’t respond accordingly in that very instance.

A flicker of green energy is again seen, with the black sword disappearing in his hand. In his clenched fist, a metal cylinder had taken its place.

Toga was fast, agile, and clean with his actions. But Erebus is the counter to a clean fighter, he is a dirty fighter— stacking many different weapons up in order to bridge those gaps he faces against other masters in their craft. So as Toga nears with Zangetsu, Erebus mutters a simple word to the darkness— one which cannot be transcribed except by those ghosts and spirits that linger around him, and Toga would be alarmed there— with his blade harmlessly passing through the transparent form of Erebus, first at the meeting point of his arm, and then through his body, unscathing his black robes.

With a simple step to adjust, moving slightly to the right to face Toga, Erebus crouches and falls to one knee again, slamming his shield against Zangetsu which would be aimed low having missed it’s mark, Erebus pins it to the earth with an inhuman amount of strength.

A laser hums to life in his sword-hand, casting a sickly green light against the shadowy mass’ form, with Erebus using his sword hand to smack roughly against the Kimetsu aimed diagonally upward, dealing both arcane and darkness magical damage to it, perhaps even fully breaking it at it’s foundations in one fell sweep with the green light; coaxed and smothered under the blackened enchantments that distinguishes it’s form in magical pestilence. The attack would be so swift and fast, and the literal speed at which the laser extends may even be enough to slash against Toga’s full body, while his sword is held under the weight of Erebus’ body and shield.

“You privilege me to stand before the fire.” Erebus boomed, with a nod as if to match the swordsman standing up a meter away. “You must teach this world in discipline, this is the way it should be.” Erebus said these things, maintaining his ability to react, still there from his crouched state against the ground— in a moment’s gesture, he was able to disappear if need be; and so, he could leave himself to these positions against the earth until sudden movements or actions warranted he do differently. In one hand, it all played right to his style, urging those foes to lash out and take to an easy attack, while he might unnerve them with his words.

Toga on another hand, did not give the feeling to Erebus that he was nervous. Prompting Erebus to wonder curiously what the dragon slayer would pull out next.

Combat Log:

Spells:

MANA 3250/4750

Another scorching burn, “Damn it all.” This time even more successful. Wincing from pain, Erebus quickly dispersed into a flock of rodents, climbing under and over Toga as they fled, departing from the fire.

When they came back together they would fully form behind Toga. Albeit, his shoulders had caught flame. Which continued to burn as the lightsaber extends— slashing in an oval shape at Toga’s back.

He avoided the stabbing power, having primed his reaction to the spell and emerged a second or two later. The Rogue was going to pick up his speed. A large black trident, in the shape of a devilish pitchfork is summoned to Erebus’ off-hand.

In addition, his cloak swaps for the Nightstalker in a green flicker. “Alright, no more words.”

Combat Log:

Spells:

MANA: 2500/4750

Erebus is met by roaring white light, being primed in an X shape-- slamming into his body, the spell pushes him on his back step as he summons the black pitchfork, after eating the explosive detonation. While the sudden air-sucking power of the magic would break normal warriors, Erebus has grown accustom to taking damage as powerful as a point blank S-rank spell. Even so, the tug against his body, was the force behind the magic. Draining against his mana; he felt a hefty draw from this attack, as he focuses on finding his footing, getting back to it after an acrobatic somersault and scooping the gravel along with it.

He was on fire, smoke rolling off his shoulder, and though the flames flickered and diluted with the ensuing moments, Erebus and could feel the magic that had gnawed down on his armor, eating a heavy chunk of its durability. He coughed once, quickly realizing that his ailments were festering back to the surface. Erebus has always been a juggernaut in respectable strengths, but his health, his mortality, might have been the one thing that truly separated him from higher powers-- through the use of cursed treasures, he could emulate the powers of unlife-- but it often left him implicated to their dark ailments as he pushed his limits.

Irregardless, he was not ready to give in. He absolved himself from complaint, and willingly sacrificed to attain every skill he needed, and he was about to show Toga, and this audience how necessary those skills and those sacrifices would be.

His opponent was strong, timely, and precise. The pressure was rapidly climbing, and that display of spell power; lapping over into a barrage of melee attacks was something the dark mage hadn't predicted but could respect at this stage. It seemed as though Toga was catching Erebus from one window into the next.

"... That won't work twice Dragon Slayer." -- his cloaks' changed, and he was now in his Nightstalker with the magical protection of by his giant fork, he could find a slight or two against Zangetsu if the going got tough again, he less likely to succumb to any more spells for the next moment or so with the polearm in his hands, he could retrace the pace back to a controlled state, he just needed to be wiser with his attacks.

Toga came in for another exchange of blades-- Erebus kept his steps moving, circling with Toga as he rushes; Erebus deflects the sword by stepping forward to catch it as it draws forward-- parrying it away, or slicing it with his lightsaber-- matching it's angular motion blow for blow. The laser was hot, and pressurized mana. It might even be enough to break Toga's word.

Upon deflecting;

Toga was quick to react once again, but Erebus was in no shape to continue playing fair. In the blink of an eye, he had disappeared, fully translucent like that of a ghostly apparition. The touch of his hand against his chest and he takes a light breath, this would've been done upon the closing action of deflecting/parrying, and it would be impossible thereafter to make visible sights of the adventurer.

Without a waste in time, Erebus takes a wide step outward to the right, a displacement of direct path with Toga. Circling to the right he also thrusts his arm, so that his much longer polearm will dart forward towards Toga's chest, letting it asail until he caught the end of the pitchfork at the tail's end-- this gave his attack it's maximum distance while stepping back, and still allowed it to glide comfortable against his robe and skin until he was holding it towards the bottom and potentially breaking through armor.

The fork could generally pierce chainmail and pick grown men up off their feet, Erebus was after the later effect. He wanted to catch and prong Toga out of the air, or perhaps, just before he was about to take off into the sky. Erebus had noticed the cape wisping to life on the Dragon Slayer's shoulders and had seen this same item used elsewhere. If he could catch Toga on the edge of his Fork's Teeth or not, so long as Toga didn't evade. The dark mage would walk the Dragon Slayer down in haste, and strike vertically, aim pointing upward at the glowing Toga's center.

Combat Log:

Spells:

MANA 1750/4750

Erebus watches Toga escape his reach, taking to the sky ahead. He adjusts himself, staring up at the Dragon Slayer.

“Feeling comfortable up there, huh?”

Another mage, who had that flying ability. Perhaps Erebus truly was behind the times, being so grounded left him at this disadvantage often. He could command the mage to come down, as he had Lumikki, but he was already expended.

Unlucky, he supposes.

“I’ll give you this one Toga. Well played, but don’t expect me to be so easy out in the real fight.” Erebus decided after letting the decision to surrender pass. Then, a sudden change occurred with the saber pommel being sucked into his ring, with his gauntlet, resummoned to his forearm— covering him in its damaged state up to the elbow. The metal was littered with cracks and openings of fragility. Easily showing the damage it had sustained earlier with Toga.

In a puff of black smoke, Erebus had retreated to a far enough distance. Phasing into sights at that same instance.

Erebus was amused and showed it with a brief raspy laugh, sending a warning shot to his counterpart. “The poison in my sword that now courses your veins, it may keep you up through the night— you’ll sweat as I do, face the dark as I have, and you will feel the evil that concentrates this world— the same pure darkness, that rises from the void that we often oversight, until it’s too late… Don’t worry, friend. You will live. Until next time that is.” Erebus left in haunting remarks, as he exited the bounds, having turned his attention to his departure.

It was not long after he had left sight, and the crowd took a moment before clapping and cheering— hailing for Toga as an arena champion.

The cloaked figure of the swordsmen disappeared behind the gate, which closed down behind himself.  

-End & Exit-

Spells:

1500/4750 MANA