Hatred breeds hatred.
Kindness breeds kindness.
Do unto others what you want to be done unto you.
"Every action I take has its consequence!"
Planting his spear firmly in the ground, Kahn proclaid.
He was a bad person—he wouldn’t deny that.
Maybe if he had t a different person during his ti of need, he might have turned out differently.
He might have even attended this prestigious academy.
But the world gave him a villain as his Samaritan.
He didn’t ask for it... she ca to him.
Now he owed her his life.
To see her goals through and eliminate all who hard her, he had to kill the girl before him.
[Pour onto thee, Flas of Purgatory. The dam of the underworld has been shattered and I bathe in its flow]
[Ignition Corpus]
Raging flas, the color of blood, ignited from the earth and engulfed his form.
Drenched in flas from head to toes, Kahn took a step forward, liquefied crimson blood flowing out of his eyes. The hot blood seeped deep into the ground, lting it whole and leaving behind a trail of steaming cracks.
His clothing burned away, giving rise to short-sleeved obsidian tunics. Blood-red tattoos were engraved onto his skin as his hollow, pupil-less eyes stared deep into Trish’s soul.
"You can run... or fight."
A single step.
That was all it took as he blinked outside of reality and appeared before Trish.
Trish moved back, her cold mask cracking as dozens of flaming spear thrusts were launched at her, each wielding the power to incinerate her whole.
[Snowdance: Ice Step]
Willing Aura into her feet, Trish staggered back, exercising a delicate and precise movent that allowed her to dodge the majority of the strikes. Her sword—a high-grade weapon and a gift from her father—slashed through the remaining spears, leaving behind an after-trail of pale aura.
The blazing heat threatening to burn her into ash washed over her skin, drenching her in unpleasant sweat.
Looking at the vampire grinning maniacally at her predicant, she lunged forward, her body splitting into dozens of afterimages that scattered across the event hall.
Leaping about and pivoting off the debris, she wrapped her blade in an enormous wave of aura and began a full assault. Illusions created from her speed fell onto the vampire like a raging tide.
"A speedster, eh!"
With a tight grip, he retracted his spear from the ground and pointed it forward.
"It doesn’t matter if you can’t reach ."
With eyes burning with ghostly flas, he held the base of his spear and spun it in a quick circle.
A flash of divine light ignited as the ground underneath him lted within seconds, while a resulting shockwave tossed the headmistress’s body away.
As for Trish’s mirages, they were all burned away, leaving the original and sole survivor in the air with her sword held up high.
Clothed in pale light, she fell with trendous force, becoming a streak of radiance that almost blinded Kahn.
The vampire, finding her speed and display impressive but not enough, t her clash with a straight face.
He first planted his boots against the ground. Instead of raising his spear to block or parry, he spread his arms apart as if awaiting an embrace.
His tattoos and the red blood leaking off his body flared in response, releasing hellish flas onto the earth.
[The curse shall look onto their flas and proclaim... Purgatory.]
The flas, roaring up to et her challenge, condensed into a swirling ball of miniature sun that devoured the surrounding moisture.
Trish’s body began to emit steam and her clothing began to shrink, but her spirit was untouched.
Descending with the impact of a falling star, she plunged headfirst into the sun, a fierce scream following after.
For a mont there was a crack—the kind that shattered the ground—before a raging sound as the sun exploded into a solar flare, illuminating the figure of Trish, who, half-burnt, was launched back.
She rolled on the ground several tis, her aura slowly unraveling, before she crashed onto a tilted pillar which soon collapsed onto her fragile form.
"A three-star shattering, high-grade magic is rather..."
Kahn, once hovering idly, paused as a thin cut tore through his cheek.
Confused, he brought his hand to the wound and rubbed it before staring at his now bloodied fingers.
"She cut ."
As he concluded, a tremor shook the hall as Trish dug her fingers into the pillar, attempting to bury them before flipping it aside.
Forcing herself to stand on her feet, she examined her wounds.
Scorched hands lacking moisture.
A burnt abdon and a trail of blood cloaking her left eye.
Her high-grade sword, dull and losing its edge to the lt, trembled within her darkened palms.
"Painful..."
Many emotions ran through her mind, but that was the first and most prominent.
Pain.
She didn’t want to continue... she wanted to give up. But because of fear and pride, she couldn’t.
She would lose everything she cared about to this one, if she were to fall here.
Art, Kai, Kiara, and the girl she once betrayed.
She hadn’t even apologized, so until she did, she wasn’t going to fall.
"You’re dangerous," Kahn his voice rasped said in a threatening tone.
Had Trish just been a rank above her current level, Kahn was sure that slash of hers, now engraved on his cheek, would have ripped his head clean off.
It wasn’t just her precision, but her physical stats were also off the charts. And her endurance was no slouch either.
Even so-called veterans would have passed out cold after taking so of the hits she had.
"...It’s not her endurance... she has sothing to protect."
At the end of the day, what separated a good warrior from a great warrior was intent.
Many mistook intent as a supernatural power, but it wasn’t.
Intent, at its basis, was what a warrior fought for.
To protect, for strength, or just to kill.
It varied, and even those similar in nature had slight differences.
"I can’t allow her to evolve."
He had just been playing around at first, but after Trish’s display now, Kahn knew if he kept playing, it would later lead to his end.
So, stabbing his spear into the ground once more, he decided to finish this once and for all.
[The earth is thou prison, my mana is thou key. As I chant thy na, I unleash onto reality—the flas of Hell.]
The ground trembled, and the earth began to split.
Molten lava began to seep out while flas, dyed in tainted darkness, were spat out.
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