The declaration rang loudly across the room, despite the deceptively soft tone the knight spoke with. It gave Soven pause, the fog that had been lingering around the giant stopped advancing and the body that the trio was inside of stopped spasming for a few moments before an obnoxious, yet joy-filled laugh left the black knight exuberantly. Death didn't change its stride however, still playing the instrument with nimbleness that only came with time, an infinite amount of it. The knight took the opportunity to think a little more on his situation he found himself in.
Soven claimed to be the giant of old that he was currently standing in, yet he was wearing the body of the black knight in the carvings like a skin suit. How is that even possible? Soven wasn't just some giant either, he's the giant of dreams and slumber, and the cousin of death, so death was one of the great kings of this plain too at some point in the timeline, so how did it evolve to this state? Questions clouded his mind, fogging his eyes to such a point he missed the sight of the wispy fog now continuing its stride toward the knight in red.
"It is a shame, truly. You are a great warrior of your time, I see it in your stature alone, yet it is not enough, for I possess the body of a warrior that bathed in the blood of his enemies simply because he had the power to do so; a streak, or stain, depending on who you asked, on the battlefield that eliminated all forces that came for his head. Even when he broke free from the mind hex placed on him by the terrible blade, it mocked him, and laughed at him as he held his daughter's corpse in his hands. He continued his massacre, but enough about the past. If you still wish to fight me then I shall not stop you, in fact, I welcome the supposed 'challenge.' I'd love to see that old fool too focused on his keys' reaction to the dismantlement of your figure. Perhaps I'll even turn you into a fountain and bathe in the blood that pours infinitely from it. Maybe the arc–" Soven was stopped from his antagonistic, egotistical ramblings by a loud boom erupting from the instrument as it stained to stay in one piece after The Guidance slammed each of his fists down with a force unlike anything the knight had ever seen, letting a boom of ugly sound escape the pipes with a screech of agony as they shuddered under the weight and twisted violently in all directions from the great emotion placed upon the unfeeling object. The force of the sound made everything around the instrument shudder in pain, the pillars cracked, the endless abyss they had been standing on trembled in fear, and most notably, the heart that had stopped beating simply stopped existing in one piece.
Gore painted everything as blood erupted upward like a volcano's eruption, chunks of the organ flew into the sky, some never coming back down, while the rest impacted anything nearby leaving craters easily double the size of the ginormous hunks of meat. Soven stood frozen in fear as the heart–his heart–he had been standing right next to turned into nothing more than an avalanche of red. They all knew it equally, Death could've ended either of them if it so wanted, which made the knight's heart skip a beat, something that he hadn't experienced since the intrepid guilt that sliced through his chance at the title "The Strongest," yet the skip of fear only marked the beginning of the knights growing terror, which was soon cast into an iron resolve.
Even If The Guidance could flick the pair out of existence, he was forbidden from intervening directly, which although opened a different set of questions, the knight focused on what mattered, the enemy in front of him didn't know what he knew–probably. The violent tremors in Soven's shoulders gave that much away, or perhaps he thought The Guidance would simply disobey Him above and kill the giant for his insolence–either way it did not matter in the slightest. Taking a single step forward, Soven instantly tensed ever further, but his eyes remained lost in a sea of emotions and memories the knight couldn't possibly understand nor comprehend–maybe the body Soven inhabited was just that alert at all times?
It was surely a powerful body, it was able to resist–even if only after a great time together–the whispers of madness that the knight would have grown weary of after a time, and this one was already far more powerful than the one that could cleave through the young creatures from the ocean below the darkness with nothing more that a simple swing; it was a terrifying amount of power that could be unlocked and unleashed through the power of madness, only blooming in the heat of destruction and death. Even from the distance the pair were from one another, the intrepid voice of the elder blade cut through his drowsy mind as if it were a tornado to a thatch hut, yet he remained intact.
One of the many things that came with the immortality forced upon him was the mental defenses to keep himself from drowning in such attacks, even if they tried dismantling that singular defense like the blade. And it was because of this defense that the knight was able to mend his mind at a much faster rate than the sword was destroying it. Once they crossed blades, however, there was no telling if he would make it out with a mind intact, or if he'd end up either a rabid animal of violence, or in a permanent coma for the rest of existence. Neither sounded appealing to the knight, but he didn't have much choice in this.
Sighing, he continued approaching Soven, slowly. Thankfully, the white mist that poured from its black humanoid fountain ceased existing, stopping one of the twin assaults on his mind. The cold mist was something he had avoided touching for a while, but was going to have to to get close to Soven, but now was the vacant giant unknowingly stopping the attack, it gave the knight an opportunity that he had not been seen coming at all.
Flashing a grin behind the helmet, his eyes sharpened, and his grip on Rising Tide loosened slightly, letting the blade breathe for a moment, since it had been trembling for the harsh grip on its handle, and then, he struck.
Like a crack of thunder, the knight appeared to the left of the rightward facing Soven–facing towards The Guidance. The knight had forgotten to charge his blade with blood, but it was too late to retreat, so he pushed forward, creating a resounding boom from Rising Tide rattling against the neck of Soven. Waves of wind jostled against one another from the excruciatingly strong strike from the weapon that was far more akin to that of a warhammer without drinking blood. The boom didn't just wake Soven from his thoughts, but it also forced the black knight to take a step back in surprise. After the blistering winds subsided, the knight was able to get a good look at the damage he caused, or lack thereof as the thin armor looked completely fine from the attack.
"I would say that was a disappointing attack, but if this sword were but a hair higher, my upper half wouldn't exist at this moment–or if it did, it would be in chunks in the far wall. What a terribly powerful individual you are, yet, sadly–at least for you, I still stand here. Now then, let us crush this temple room into nothing more than rubble!" The casual way Soven addressed the attack made the knight shiver in discomfort, there was nothing being held back in that attack, and it did nothing to the black knight, yet the knight couldn't help but fight that shiver back, and replace it with an anxious grin. There was a feeling blossoming in the knight's chest that he hadn't felt for a very long time, and he wasn't entirely sure what it was, but he decided that it wasn't a bad feeling, so he let it consume him.
Moments after the first strike, the knight flashed backward, appearing quite the distance away. His armor was made with protection first, so there was very little thought put into flexibility, which he was sorely regretting, at that moment. Soven's armor was tougher than anything he had ever seen, while being the most mobile piece of gear he had faced, so he needed to figure something out or he'd get gutted in this fight far too quickly. Seconds later, the knight crouched down, placed his weapon on the ground and got back to his feet.
"... Please give me a few moments to make some…adjustments" The knight said calmly. Not waiting for an answer, the knight grabbed hold of his right elbow, and tore away at the armor around the joint, which was quickly followed by his shoulder, then his left elbow–with a bit more difficulty–and finally his left shoulder. The sound of tearing metal was not something he found particularly pleasant, yet he remained composed. Once finished with each piece of metal, he simply dropped it down to the black floor, allowing the shrill sound of metal against rock to permeate the entire room that was more akin to an empty landscape. He finished his fixes before the ringing sound even ended and picked up his blade from the floor.
Meanwhile, Soven stood statutory, waiting patiently to test his new body's limits. He was in no rush. The ringing of the metal was a bit agitating, but nothing that could truly aggravate him, an example being that fool of a cousin he had once held in such high regard. He gritted his teeth behind the blank, abyssal helmet adorned with not a single tale on it, he glanced over at the peaceful-looking miniature giant playing a hymn on an instrument that she had made for him, but he was drawn back to the nameless knight. Just looking at the knight made him gritted teeth morph into a grin, this one was such an odd creature, and he liked odd creatures. It didn't help that this was one of the few creatures that he couldn't see the dreams of.
'All the more intriguing.' Soven thought to himself, but was alerted by the sound, or rather the lack of a certain sound, the agitating clanging of metal against the obsidian flooring and immediately disappeared into a singular blur of violence towards his opponent ready to turn this young immortal into nothing more than an unresponsive tree just like his followers. As is the mercy of the dreamer.
A single deafening boom was all the knight heard for a moment while Soven advanced towards him at a speed unlike anything he had ever seen. The blade of darkness was trailing next to him, leaving a trench in the glassy rock before it reappeared high into the air, ready to cleave the knight in two. Time slowed as he tracked the weapon with his eyes, yet his body remained frozen in the slowed time, not able to move fast enough. Then he heard it in the far off background: the simple tune of Death.
It wasn't a classy sound, but it was far from depressing; it was almost serene. The warble was played with a care that only one with an affinity for the instrument could. It sounded like a flowing river: simple, calming, and faint to his ears. He didn't notice it in the moment, but with his panicked mind calmed, he found after the fact that his body had slid into Soven's defense, deftly evading the killing blow like the calm river would go around the stone that split the river into twin separate streams before turning back into a single stream on the other side of the stone. Now behind Soven, the knight swung downward, towards his protected, yet undefended skull with all the force of a crash landing. The boom was silent to him as he focused on a sound far more enticing: the cracking of Soven's skull beneath the weight of the sky.