Blood and Arcanum both drummed not only in Arthur's ears, but it resonated with his entire being.
The pupils inside his glowing grey irises contracted until it completely vanished, leaving behind an expressionless void instead of the growling fear that had crept up onto his face due to the growing paranoia of him falling right where his mother wanted him to be.
His consciousness was completely buried underneath a layer of viciousness, which was in total contrast to his usual pragmatic self.
Pain faded away and so did the useless thoughts that hindered his movements.
Ed levitated in the sky, looking down at Arthur with a disappointed look. Wings of dark grey flames fluttered, sending ashes in every direction. Nightcrackle pulsed in his grasp like a sentient entity, perfectly conducting his decay property flames.
He shook his head and directed his sword's tip towards Arthur, planning to finish it with this strike. Flames started to grow. But unlike the first time, they didn't seem to detach themselves from his sword and turn into the mass slaughtering attack. It grew as an extension of Nightcrackle's tip, never leaving it.
"In the end, you're just a human." Ed spat. "Parlour tricks fade away in the face of true strength. You blame us for your near extinction." His nostril flared. "All of you are just liars. And mindless murderers. Living in your own ideal fantasy where you victimise yourself. I thought highly of you even when you killed my mother. Because you had a good presence of mind and detected that she was probing you and was going to report back… but, but you are no different. Thinking you can defeat me. That same confidence is going to be your downfall. Just like your kin."
His words were not laced with anger, but disappointment. As if avenging his mother's life was more of a chore than an act out of genuine affection.
As Ed held the hilt of his sword with his other hand, the ground beneath Arthur exploded and he disappeared.
Ed's hair stood on its edge as he suddenly turned around. However, Arthur wasn't coming from his back.
Before he could turn back towards Arthur, his sword met the exposed back of Ed.
The ashy flames decayed the sword's blade before it could even sever more than the fabric that Ed was wearing, however, Arthur spun in midair and his shin met Ed's face.
The kick was followed by an ear-numbing boom followed by the formation of a shockwave in the shape of a halo with Arthur as its epicentre.
A sudden rush of Arcanum flared upwards and his wings increased three-folds in size. Every beat sent a wave of heat that decayed everything in its path.
The sky was covered with the glimmer of weapons—the only metallic objects in the keep—as they started to congregate in a thick kaleidoscope formation in front of Arthur. The heat wave crashed like a high-tide against a cliff.
The hissing sound and acrid smell of something foul burning against metal filled the air as Ed stabilised himself via his gigantic wings.
The centre of the giant kaleidoscope opened, paving way as Arthur's hand emerged from inside it. Lightning crackled and enveloped his entire hand before shooting a concentrated beam of azure lightning down at Ed.
The air whistled as it cracked and popped, random sparks flying in every direction.
Swinging his Nightcrackle, he once again enveloped it into a sheen of grey flames before detaching the slash.
The ethereal tendrils of the flames stuck to the lightning like a parasite. Most of it fizzled away and some of it cancelled the spell, weakening it enough for Ed to swat it away with a flick of his hand.
Letting loose another thin and much weaker streak of lightning for cover, Arthur burst across the ground before leaping at him, his both hands tightly clasping a spear.
Gone was the calculative expression from his face and the cold logic from his eyes and was replaced by a harrowing emptiness, focused on the sole action of killing the person right in front of him.
Ed and Arthur both crashed in tandem.
Grey and azure sparks flew as lightning impacted against Nightcrackle's decay aura.
The following moment both Arthur and Ed's figures became a blur. In a series of what looked like synchronised detonations, they exchanged more than a few hundred strikes in the matter of seconds that passed by even faster than they should've.
Each strike from Arthur was being perfectly parried by Ed, and the ones that managed to bypass his defences left only a meagre mark.
A dozen new wounds opened up across Arthur's body, albeit much more serious and deeper than Ed's.
However, Ed's nose was scrunched. Arthur's body was a bloody mess, but he kept swinging his sword without any decrease in efficiency.
As if the wounds were not significant. As if the wounds didn't matter. As if the wounds were not even inflicted and it was just an illusion that Ed was seeing.
It irked him.
He roared at Arthur's insouciance towards the state of his own body or the current situation and lunged at him.
Then Arthur was hurtling like a lifeless object through the air.
The extension of Nightcrackle's tip was embedded in his chest, and it was growing, carrying Arthur along with it.
Fifteen feet, eighteen, twenty… fifty—until he slammed high against one of the few standing workshops.
However, his fall wasn't stopped there as he went on crashing like a ragdoll before eventually crashing into a brothel.
The establishment collapsed, cries of women echoing everywhere. The air was heavy, laden with the smell of body fluids; however, it didn't really matter much to the robotic state in which Arthur was.
His spear lashed out, but the grey flames shifted, moving and reforming around his weapon. He hacked at it wildly, like an untrained boy trying to split a log.
His temples throbbed like an insistent beat of a drum, echoing throughout his skull. Each pulse felt like an explosion, sending waves of discomfort to almost palpably radiate outward. A rush of blood surged through his veins with every beat of his heart, amplifying the sensation to a fever pitch.
The numbed state of mind was washing over the hot pain, submersing it in a detached and concentrated manner.
However, the decay-imbued tip continued to expand, growing through him, pressing against with an intent to puncture through the Arcanum imbued flesh and into this heart. Layer upon layer of Arcanum was slowly getting peeled away as the tip grew wider, trying to rip a hole through Arthur.
His eyes were eerily blank as he didn't spare a look down at the sword's tip that was about to dig a hole into him. Disregarding any common sense, he gripped the blade's extension. The wispy grey tendrils latched themselves onto his hand and his palm started to get dark.
Like an alive, symbiotic organism, a black blotch took a sinuous leap, its inky body trying to seep into flesh and bone. The skin right beneath his thumb started to decay, first the epidermis and then the lower layers, as they began to give away with a slight sizzle.
From beneath the layer of mindless bloodlust, a moan of pain escaped his lips.
People were escaping from the brothel where he had crashed and were now running away.
A short statured Dwarf, with a towel wrung around her body, peeked in from the other side and saw Arthur pinned to the ground in a bloody mess.
Finding the right moment, she made a dash for it.
However…
A spark of electricity left Arthur's left hand and struck the woman right beneath her right knee. She fell down on her face and by the time she looked down and a guttural cry of pain erupted from her throat, Arthur had already dragged her to himself from the red stub that was once her leg.
As he did, Ed's brows narrowed into a frown. Holding the Dwarf woman by her hair, Arthur pulled and was about to bang her face into the extension of Nightcrackle.
Without wasting words on a remark, Ed cancelled Nightcrackle's extension just in time.
A small gash had made its way on Arthur's chest; however, his internal organs were safe and there was no internal bleeding.
Wasting no time, Arthur stood up like a dead corpse reanimating and then disappeared amidst a net of lightning that fried the woman's skin to black tar.
The azure bolt of lightning arced upwards, carrying Arthur with it. The broken shards of weapons Arthur had used until now started to tremble in a frenzy as the shrapnel lurched towards himself. The tangerine-coppery shade of flames engulfing The Keep made them shine brightly like shooting stars across the smoky sky.
Ed growled and blitzed towards Arthur, swinging Nightcrackle in a downward slash.
His eyes grew wide.
"How?" He mindlessly mumbled.
The wispy grey aura latched on to Arthur's dense sword, however, it struggled to initiate oxidation as azure lightning fought back against it. It was too dense to decay immediately.
Arthur no longer needed to deliver one strike and then back off. His weapon wasn't going to betray him anytime soon.
In his moment of daze, Arthur found an opening and immediately took advantage of it. However, something he had been trying to ignore until now finally made its presence.
Gravity.
He tried to fight back against the laws of nature, to believe— believe that he can fly, however, it pulled him down and his sword swung at open air.
The place where Arthur landed caved in on impact and the crater only widened as Ed followed suit.
"Enough of this mouse-chase, boy!" Ed was losing composure at the certain events repeating themselves over and over with minimal changes.
Arthur stayed silent however, his Arcanum flickered weakly before booming outwards.
And then the two became a blur. Once again.
Golden tinged with azure lightning and black carrying hints of grey wisps aura manifested and mingled before flattening everything down to the ground. Their auras hardened like blades and whipped like mad snakes at everything.
Despite the earlier irritated expression on Ed's face still lingering, he was smiling. He was enjoying it.
Fissures snaked from the inside of the crater, cutting at everything. Even Ed's allies who were starting to overpower Michael with pure, sheer numbers started to get cut. Their bodies were cleaved in half, cut into different areas as limbs, head and entire bodies started to fly in every direction imaginable.
The ashes and smoke from flames that engulfed The Keep were blown away by the crimson rain that rained like a heavy downpour.
The golden, crackling aura whipped around Michael and struck his hand as he let out a gasp. The intoxication had long since left him and now pure adrenaline acted as a fuel. However, he had gained enough sanity to not die purely because of his high headedness.
He looked at Arthur and then narrowed his eyes.
"Something's wrong with this fucker." He mumbled to himself before sidestepping and avoiding a flying javelin. Catching it in his bare hand, he threw it back. The tip of the javelin pierced a demon's gut and then continued to travel backwards until it struck another demon and then pinned their lifeless bodies to the wall of a ration shop.
"Also, how many of you are here!? Damn you!" He cursed and then ran after the incoming people.
A demon with short cropped hair lunged at him.
Michael's eyes gleamed as he saw the demon wearing gauntlets.
"Oho! Oh yeah, baby! That's how it should be." He cried out as the demon swung at him, causing a shockwave to travel behind Michael. A small trail of blood flowed down his nose as he looked back at the demon. "Men should throw hands, don't ya think!? Weapons are for pussies like that idiot there!" He cackled, pointing at Arthur. As the demon glanced in Arthur's direction with a morbid sense of gnawing fear, Michael kicked him in his crotch.
"BAHAHA! You're such an idiot. Listening to your enemy." Michael looked back and squinted his eyes.
"He's not being his usual self. There can't be a realm where that's right." As he was thinking, the subtle smile all but faded as a hundred needle-like spikes started to rain on him.
Flipping to the side, he avoided most of them, however, some of them lodged themselves into his shoulder blade and his arm.
He looked down at them with a frown before Arcanum covered his skin and he flexed his muscles. The needles shot out like miniature projectiles. Turning to the source of the attack, Michael raised his chin.
The one who had fired it was a Dwarf with long facial and head hair. So long that his features were almost impossible to make sense of. His beard was combed neatly until it reached his knees and was put in place using a beard ring at the end. Two thick, brown-ish pig-tails rested on his shoulders.
"Hmmmm. Finally, someone who has Arcane Art." Michael cocked his head. "I am not really smart, I'd admit, but don't you think it's strange? So many of you weaklings in an army camp of sorts?" He asked the Dwarf.
"I will waste no breath on you, human."
"Bah!" Michael threw his hands into the air in an exaggerated manner. "Shut up when I am talking, short ass motherfucker. You're a puppet, act like one." The cruel touch in his voice made the Dwarf flinch as he took another step. "Weird. Very weird. I am sure Mr. Know-it-all there has figured it out as well, as long as he's not lost his mind."
"Don't waste your last words on idle chatter, h-human!" The Dwarf raised his hands and multiple head-sized chunks of rocks rose up from the ground.
"Army encampment on such a huge scale and I have only seen one person with an Arcane Art. Except the edgy grey flames batman guy, of course." Michael's fist pounded into his palm. "Dunno what's up, but I know for a damned fact that you lot are up to something sus."
Michael spoke everything in Abrahamic, except for the last bit which he uttered in pure English.
The Dwarf gulped audibly and pressed his fingers into open air. Dust and gravel fell from the chunks of earth that were floating around him, leaving behind medium sized earthen bullets. The bullets had a spiral design over them. "Damn you!" He barked, and then flicked his wrist.
The needle-like projectiles went upwards before raining down in a black barrage of death.
Michael sneered and then looked down at the Dwarf.
"Say, shorty." He spoke, standing unfazed amidst the black rain. "What do you think a person should do when they can't use their own Arcane Arts? Because it does more harm than good to the user."
The Dwarf stayed silent, not uttering a word as he saw his spell bounce off Michael's skin as if it wasn't made out of hardened earth, but rather rubber.
"The only choice…" he caught one of the projectiles with his bare hands, "…you train your body to the point that it can compensate for the lack of sheer annihilation an Arcane Art can produce." He paused, letting a few dramatic seconds pass by. "Or you mould a skill into your cortex."
The Dwarf's eyes widened in a rush of sudden realisation. However, it was already too late.
His feet hovered over the ground as Michael's fingers snaked around his throat. His breath hitched and fell short. A second later, Michael's hand tore through the flesh and broke through the ribcage, his cold hand sending a shiver around the Dwarf's warm, pulsating heart.
His hand closed and the heart crushed into his grip. Throwing his body to the side, Michael cranked his neck.
The Dwarf fell to the ground, and after a few seconds, he gasped, crying out in pain.
"Arghhh…!"
Mustering all of his strength, he touched his chest.
Much to his own surprise, his heart was still beating. Alive and whole.
Looking from the side of his eye, Michael scoffed. "Be grateful I can't kill, or use my Arcane Art."
The Dwarf willed Arcanum into his body to move, however, despite the fuel being there, there was no strength in his limbs. They just laid there, like limp pieces of flesh and bone.
He turned around, his sharp gaze washing over everyone he had defeated until now.
Arms and legs were bent at unnatural angles, and many of them were buried underneath heaps of burning debris.
Plopping down on the ground, Michael breathed out a sigh.
"Ahh, man, this sucks." He spoke as he saw Arthur and Ed exchange blows, sending ripples of shockwaves everywhere. "Is he under mind control or something?" He spoke to himself. Combing his fingers through his long, snow-white locks, he brushed the stray strands to the back. "For crying out loud, I didn't get paid to babysit this freak."
Shaking his head, he looked back.
An extremely strong Arcanum signature was approaching. The mere inching closer of it made Michael feel like death itself was walking towards him. The dark, sicky green aura oozing out of the person was suffocating, and his vision almost doubled over.
"I guess there is no point in fighting here anymore." He whispered underneath his breath. "Even if I use it, I don't have a chance." A sour taste filled his mouth. "Tch, how pathetic of me to want the old man to come and take care of this."
Standing up, he crouched down, touching the ground with his hands and extending his legs backwards.
Like a sprint position.
Arcanum blazed like forest-fire and his legs glowed in an amethyst aura.
As he took a step, the force sent debris and crippled bodies backwards.
Ed and Arthur were trapped in a stalemate, their swords locked together. Arthur's face was still as impassive as the moment his pupils disappeared completely from his irises and Ed had a smile on his face, enjoying this fight to the fullest. Their locked swords caused scintillating sparks to fly everywhere.
With the sound of feet digging into the ground and coming to a screeching halt, Michael arrived right behind Ed. With a grin on his face, Michael placed his hand over the arm that was holding the sword.
"Buckle up, horned boy!"
In a flash, his fist made contact with Ed's jaw.
Ed's head immediately snapped back at the blow, lifting him off the ground only a few inches.
"That tickled," Ed growled, cracking his neck. "Begone." His hand directed at Michael and a huge congregation of flames started to gather in the centre of his palm.
However, Michael grabbed his arm and bent it in the middle, redirecting its direction.
"You're quite bold." Ed spoke in a calm voice.
Arthur redirected Ed's strike, and then immediately followed with a quick stab towards Ed's chest. Michael's eyes widened as the sword's tip missed its mark and stabbed Ed in his arm-pit and Arthur followed with a spinning kick and elbow to Michael.
"Oye! You dickhead. I am on your team!" Michael exclaimed unbelievably as he was thrown a few yards away.
Ed's eyes flicked from Arthur to Michael and a sense of confusion invaded him.
Something exploded right behind them, a few yards away and the sickly green aura rose up in the shape of a tornado, tearing the layer of clouds overcast.
The smell of death filled the air and even Ed felt a shiver crawl up his spine.
"Lord Cromwell is here…"
His thought was interrupted as Michael punched him, harder this time, throwing him a few yards away.
Arthur blurred and lunged at Michael, however, he held Arthur's arm and then got behind him, locking his hand to the back.
"My dear, you have been sleeping for too long. You should wake up now."
A voice ringed in Arthur's head. A touch. A soft touch. Lips pressed tightly against his.
"--ke up"
"Wake up, you bastard. I don't know what kind of contract or vow you entered with whatever damned God, but I am not dying just because my driver lost his fucking mind!"
Michael's arm pushed heavily against Arthur's throat. Ed capitalised on the moment and burst forward.
As Arthur's eyes started to lose light and were to roll back into his head, his pupils dilated suddenly and the frenzied shiver in his body subsided.
Nightcrackle blurred with grey wisps as its tail. A moment later two spears embedded into Ed's hamstrings, followed by a sword to his right arm and then another spear followed and grazed his hip. The swords that had stopped protecting and attacking Arthur due to lack of rationality all started to shiver once again.
Pushing Michael back, Arthur coughed, ignoring Ed who was down on one knee.
He blinked his eyes a few times. "I'll thank you later." Arthur spoke as he moved his hands in the form of a sign. Bringing the base of his palms together, he closed his eyes.
The swords and spears started to form a cage around the two of them. Their tips pointed towards not only Ed, but every living person.
[Phase 1: Hailstorm]
Lightning coursed through the weapons and cries of people filled the air.
Layers of shields stacked over each other in front of Ed now that his chainmail had recharged, however, his focus faltered. Seeing people die one after another as the barrage of swords slash and mutilate them caused a conflict of emotions into him.
Should he stall the two until his "Lord Cromwell" arrived? Or should he go all-out and capture the two right now and avoid future deaths?
He was torn. Even a second of negligence could result in his own demise.
Letting out a deep breath, Nightcrackle came to life. For the first time. Instead of conducting Ed's grey flames, it started to glow in its own unique glow.
A rather disturbed look appeared on Michael's face.
"Uhh, they're not dying."
Arthur clicked his tongue as he saw the mutilated corpses reanimate.
"They're dying. Someone is reviving them." Arthur looked back. "He mentioned his Lord in the beginning. Maybe it's him." A strained gasp left his lips as his Arcanum dwindled.
"Necromancy? There is no record of such sorcery." Michael argued back.
"That doesn't matter right now. We have to escape." Arthur spoke and grabbed Michael by the scruff of his clothes.
"Yeah, my useless driver, that is what I have been trying to tell you for so long."
"Oh please, don't start it at this time. I am low on blood, Arcanum and patience."
"Shouldn't have let him beat your ass like that then."
"Good Lord! You talk a lot." A net of electricity encased the two as Arthur directed his hand in the direction where he first appeared in Eden.
The knife that he made from the ring Albert had given him was still embedded into the cliff's surface.
Before Ed could dash and restrain them, their figures disappeared in a maelstrom of yellow and azure sparks.
"NOOO!"
Ed limped, struggling to walk with so many weapons embedded into him.
Nightcrackle's charged attack sliced through the air. Making its way through the few people who were barely standing, one hand on knee and other on the side support, the beam of death approached them as panic and dread filled Ed.
However, a person stepped in front of them and swatted the attack away like it was nothing. Or rather it wasn't swatted away.
The Arcanum that made up the charged attack was sucked into a ring that had the appearance of the maw of a creature that looked like a dragon.
"Hmm." He narrowed his eyes on Ed who fell to one knee. "You let them go."
"…" Ed stayed silent, not uttering a word, the hot pain coursing through his veins stealing away any excuse he had formed in his mind.
"Well, I guess you wanted to break him for killing your mother." He spoke in an apathetic way.
Ed lowered his head until it was an inch above the charred ground. "I apologise, my Lord."
The man's golden eyes with swirling white pupils focused on him, unblinkingly. "Shallow words, is what you're offering, General Ed." He replied, the disappointed edge never leaving his voice. "If you want to apologise, prove yourself with actions." He paused and then looked around. "The prisoners are all dead as well." A smirk formed on his face. "Good, good."
As he turned around, the wind caused his robe to flutter wildly in the air, causing a loud whoosh, drowning out the crackle of everything—structures and people alike—burning. "We will commence with the original plan, General Ed."
"As your lordship commands!" Biting back the bitter taste in his mouth, he thumped his fist against his chest.
Although Arthur had not defeated him, Ed considered his escape as a loss.
The Lord took a step forward and then stopped to look back, taking his hood off and revealing a bush of short, curly white hair. Two pairs (4 horns) of obsidian horns-- one pair sprouting from his forehead that moved upwards like razor-sharp daggers and the other two extending upwards from his temples and curling down around his ear.
"Failure will not be tolerated this time around." He spoke, his slit-swirling golden eyes narrowing.
Ed dipped his head, shame urging him to bury himself in a hole somewhere. His curiosity with Arthur and selfish desire to defeat Arthur by humiliating him as he exhausts himself had caused him to attract the ire—although subtle—towards himself.
"I swear by Hades, I will either have his head on my sword, or die trying."
The man nodded and then slightly shook his head sideways.
"It will be quite disappointing if you die to a human pup. And while I appreciate the sentiment, I have something else planned for you. The boy that fought you... there's something really magnetic about him. I am quite enthralled." He looked at the moonlit sky. "We unleash the Wujins first thing in the morning."
And then a sinister smile formed on his lips as he talked to himself.
"Arthur, huh?" He smacked his lip, as if savouring his name. "… I have my own set of actions planned out for him."