[i] The blue fire.. it wasn't Phoenix. He was dead, but this guy was so eerily similar from the tales he'd been told.. [/i] "Shame." [i] Ronin utters, actually wanting to see that sword drawn. He shrugs, his front knee bending before a blast of air erupts around him, launching towards Lucien. The speed..it was remarkable. Faster than what should be humanly possible, he'd just closed fifty feet in no more than a second. That fifty turned into three as he did something odd. He sent a closed fist, Left hook at Lucien's face, sword still at his side. [/i]

Even without the perception-enhancing herbs of the Tribals, Lucien could still barely make out Lance and his speed. So in retort to the man's fist, he performed an equally - if not more - trivial maneuver. Ronin felt a [i]crack![/i] as his velocity-fuelled fist collided with the left side of Lucien's jaw, rending bone from flesh as the left part of his lower jaw burst free of his mouth through his skin, hanging on afterwards by mere tendons. During this however, he did not stand his ground. Before Ronin's fist collided, he took a few steps forward and then shot backwards with surprising force to match Ronin's momentum. So while Ronin broke his jaw... Lucien drew his revolver with his off hand, keeping the olive katana at bay with the catching teeth of his sword-breaker. He fired four rapid shots into Ronin's visor, the .410 shotgun shells of the Raging Judge doing their work. Some kind of electricity arced across Ronin's face as the shells collided. If they did not get through the visor, they would at least put it out of commission. After having his jaw nigh torn off, Lucien uses his sword breaker to still keep the blade away as he promptly pistol whips Ronin away whilst backing up. He coughs blood from his ripped open mouth - no, he wasn't coughing. [i]He was laughing.[/i] A much more sinister tone spoke through the remnants of Lucien's mouth as the tendons began sowing itself together, marrow being burnt back into place with flashes of fire melding them shut. "Masterless samurai... Do you wish to feast upon the fruit of a False Prophet?" The last words became normal as the piece of his jaw melded itself back into place, ash gathering at the seams making his face looking akin to fractured clay quickly glued back together. He levelled his sword-breaker at Ronin once more, crimson fluid still dripping from the ashes covering his scars. Something about his posture said that this time, he wasn't on the tactical defensive anymore. Something in his eyes told that if Ronin wanted to expose the demon that lay beneath, he would have to rip him to pieces to find it.

[i] Ronin's head snapped backwards, the shells colliding with his visage and spiderwebbing the metal. Lance jumped back a few feet, metal falling away in pieces as more and more of his face was shown. By the time the metal fragments were lying in the grass at his feet, his face was fully exposed. Young, no older than thirty. Chocolate brown hair topped his head with a lock falling in his face, between two icy blue eyes. Eyes that were frozen with anguish and sorrow, but blazed with rage and power. On top of that..he was grinning.[/i] https://imgur.com/a/fZl5P "I rather liked that one, but it's a small price to pay for this kind of challenge." [i] He sounded almost gleeful, and in that moment, Lucien saw a man who lived for the thrill of a good fight. Thrived off of it.[/i] "Although, I'll have to pass on the feasting. Doesn't sound very appetizing." [i] Ronin said, guessing it was a figure of speech but being snide all the same. He held out his left hand, wispy shadows conjured from his fingertips crawled and floated to his palm, pooling there until they formed a shadowy black ball the size of a softball. The darkness stretched and writhed, like it wanted out of the shape it was in. Ronin promptly reared his arm back and hurled it at Lucien, the projectile pulsing and getting more volatile as it flew towards the man. Whatever it was.. probably wasn't a good idea to get hit by it. [/i]

[spoiler]-blam!-ing baseball player 😂[/spoiler] Lucien spun and threw the dense sword-breaker straight at the shadow-ball, flying straight through the air and making contact with the consuming sphere. Lucien was willing to sacrifice the amount of blood it took him to make the weapon in order to gauge the power of Ronin's shadows - after all, a battle was an exchange of blood, was it not? After that he reloads his revolver quickly and fluidly, putting a variety of different rounds into the barrel. "My mentor called this a 'trail mix' technique. Allow one's revolver to carry varying types of ammunition. When I asked him why he called it that he admitted it was named after an Old-Earth meal. Suffice to say, such humour has worn off on me. But I must say - the trail mix is quite deadly used with the right bullets and the right person." Something about Lance's armour was wrong. Any shielding or onboard electronics began being temperamental after being hit by the shells from before. "I've dealt with armour like yours before. The Iconoclast had black projects that developed Old-Earth power armour and exosuits. If you killed for them, you got your hands on them. They also had a plethora of other black projects that were in development... Before I raided the compound and took the blueprints, of course."

[i] When the weapon collided with the shadowy ball, it simply dissipated into wisps while the weapon fell to the ground. Something told Lucien something far different would've happened if it had hit him though.. Lance's armor was powered by a tytritium system, the most efficient and cost effective element in the world. While whatever shielding and electronics he had would be spotty for the time being, they wouldn't be out of commission..unless he took any more of those shots. On top of that, he had no face protection, and this guy was playing for keeps.[/i] "You may have seen armor like mine, but you've never seen anyone like me." [i]Lance says, reaching his left hand down and withdrawing the white and gold katana, the blade that seemed to give off its own light. This one too, had an interesting pattern along the edge akin to Damascus steel.[/i]

[i]It only interacts with organic beings. Interesting. [/i] "Old-Earth systems... A far cry from the pale imitations the Iconoclast has created then. I stole plans for ammo meant to have wetware programs that would release on impact, releasing shockwaves that would screw with servos and shielding and all of that. Too expensive for any mercenary company, but for me it was perfect. However it seems that I'll just have to stick with the classics." A flash of hands and the exchanging of bullets showed Lance the change in ammunition from Lucien. But what did he change his bullets to? He holstered his revolver and ran his hand down his inner arm again, slicing through flesh and summoning another sword-breaker. Once again, he levelled the Chinese weapon at Lance as his other hand remained empty but at the ready. Lucien charged at Ronin with speed rivalling that of his first attack, attacking with a barrage of blows reminiscent of a fencer striking rapidly with a rapier; the sword-breaker was at eye level with Lucien and repeatedly thrust forward aimed at Lance's exposed head. He drew his revolver quickly at the beginning of the blows, constantly firing shell after shell point blank at Ronin's lower body. What was strange however, was how he lowered the barrel every shot as if he was also ready to put the gun away at any moment. With his sword-breaker's hard point lashing at Ronin's head and his revolver firing shells at his torso from Lucien's hip, he continued his flurry all whilst observing Ronin, watching both swords and the hands that held them.

[i] When the bullets started flying, Lance's shielding systems came to life. What was operational anyway. Arcs of tytritium leaped off his armor, zapping the bullets and disintegrating them. Meanwhile, Lance weaved to and fro, his skills coming to surface now. His body blurred as he avoided the thrusts, a particularly fast one batted away each time by his right hand katana. The sword seemed to have a life of it's own, almost instinctively leaping to Lance's defense. The next thrust that came in, Lance's blade ignited in a blue light that blazed with heat..Cobalt colored fire. Very, very similar to Lucien's own abilities. The blade superheated, instead of batting the thrust away, he brought the sword up and cut sideways, planning to slice the weapon in half. [/i]

[i][b]CRACK! CRACK![/b][/i] The remainder of Lucien's shells blasted against Ronin's armour, all being destroyed by his shielding. Lucien smiled - perfect. Ronin's superheated blade cut through his sword-breaker and he flinched. Not because his weapon was disabled, but because he wielded flames eerily similar of his own. But he could not get distracted by such a trivial thing - it was impossible that anyone else could carry the same virus strain as himself. Little did the man know, he was using EMP shells - much different from the experimental wetware he was utilizing earlier. Instead of relying on pellets that merely carried disrupting components that could still physically damage, the EMP rounds releases electromagnetic pulses upon fragmentation - the pellets inside were all actually connected by micro-wire, acting as capacitors to amplify the EMP. Normally one itself wouldn't suffice, but he had just unloaded 6 consecutive EMP rounds into Ronin's shielding. Even better that they were released by the shielding itself - two birds in one stone. He attempted to stab Ronin with the jagged, broken point of the weapon before letting go and jumping back. For a moment it seemed as if he was hovering there: flying backwards and away from Ronin as he now swept his left hand along his right inner forearm, and Ronin realized somewhat... He had another spiked ring on his left hand, but coloured to look like his skin. A flash of viscera was all it took to form three bloody kunai of ash in Lucien's left hand, which he promptly threw downwards at Lance's face as he sailed back through the air.

[i] Lance cursed silently as he felt his systems shut down. They were Emp rounds, but there wasn't much he could've done. His shields were automatic, so they destroyed the rounds, like it or not. Lance's armor was lightweight though, and no matter that the shields and HUD were down, he still had protection. He also picked up on the man's flinch, a minor movement only a trained fighters eye. So maybe there was a connection.. Lance batted the last stab to the side, and his eyes followed Lucien into the air as he threw his projectile. With a swift, almost elegant movement, Lance bright his white and gold katana across his body vertically, a wall of hardlight trailing in it's wake. The kunai impacted with the shield, causing a scattering of light particles and flashes. Not wasting any time, Lance brought his sword back over his shoulder and slashed diagonally, sending a massive hardlight projectile at Lucien. [/i]

Though he had never actually face hardlight technology, he read up on some Iconoclast research into the possibility of developing it. So he knew some of its properties - not like that would help him if he were to be hit by the projectile made from it though. After jumping back through the air he landed on the ground and quickly took to an Iaijutsu sword drawing stance before a deafening crack followed by a white light ignites from Lucien's position: a flashbang. A sword draw so fast that it was covered by the detonation of the flashbang, Lucien's blade cut through the hard light through the blinding of the detonation. The first thing would Ronin see after the flashbang would be three kunai knives aiming for his face whilst a blue-flaming sword sliced upwards across his torso.

[i] Damn, he's fast. Lance thought, but his evaluation was cut short as the kunai came flying at his face. He leaned backwards, hands planting on the ground behind him as he went into a back bend, knives sailing inches past his body. The sword that would've came up and across his torso now slashed across his thigh diagonally, biting into the armor but it quite reaching skin. Lance flipped backwards, the whole thing an impressive show of acrobatics. He landed on his feet, swords on his shoulders as he scanned over the man.[/i] "Where did you learn to fight like that, Lucien Farcòn?" [i] Lance asked. The question wasn't meant to distract or take away from the fight; it was legitimate curiosity. [/i]

The man raised his pistol in a quick draw to fire a bullet at Lance, but paused and holstered the revolver. "Take your pick. Family swordsmanship. Tribals. Old-Earth documents. Rogue Iconoclast agents. I learned the most from the Tribals of my home, however. I trained under them. You could say they were... Beast hunters, of a sort. The descendants of ex-aviators who took it as their duty to eradicate the blight of the mutated stem cell virus and all monsters it creates. They were highly skilled in melee - after all, that's one of the only ways to kill one of those beasts. Hack it apart and clean the rest up with acid." He tapped his flaming katana and his holstered revolver. "I learned one of their more complex fighting styles, based upon a pirate's old techniques it was refined into a graceful art. Guns don't work very well on the Infected in my home, Ronin. The virus regenerates puncture wounds too quick for it to be of any use. But use a gun such as my Judge to disorient and use a blade in tandem... It requires the heavy price of ample dexterity, but it is effective as you can see right now." After soon realizing his sword draw, his eyes grew dark and clouded. "I never enjoy drawing this blade. It's more of a monster, really. A monster who's story should be well forgotten and never seen - hence why I tie a one-use flashbang mechanism to the blade and sheathe. But if it's a monster you wish to fight, then so shall you get. Now tell me, Lance May: where did you gain fire like mine?"

[i] Lance had a good feeling Lucien was one of these infected he spoke of. After all, he'd watched his jaw knit itself back together before his eyes.. [/i] "Sometimes monsters need to be brought to light, and sometimes they're better off under our beds." [i] Lance says, holding out The Dragon Blade horizontally; Cobalt blue fire licking the edge of the steel.[/i] "A group that I was taken into, Phoenix's Unborn. They..worshipped, for want of a better word, the life and legacy of a man called the Forgotten Martyr, or Cobalt Phoenix as I know of him. He wielded fire like this, and they had the capability to imbue my blade with it." [i] Lance looked up, looking over the man with a keen eye, almost like he was dissecting him..[/i] "Now that you ask, he used to wear armor and carry weapons similar, if not identical to yours. Pistol and sword combination, he even wielded blue fire." [i] Lance swept a hand behind him, encompassing the Dojo.[/i] "They even have a monument of sorts dedicated to him; Luis Franco. Somewhat of a legend around here."

"Luis Franco?" He had never heard such a name. Of course he immediately recognized the surname as an anagram of his own, so there was feasibility there. And Luis could stem from their lineage's consonance as well... But that would imply that someone else took the mantle from Lucien. All existing Tribals had branded his name as the title of a False Prophet, the surname forever tainted by his actions. Also... And he had no memory of his death. So that would be impossible unless he was presumed dead. But if he wielded weapons similar and carried apparel nigh-identical to his... No. That was truly impossible. He would never let the boy go down a road such as his. He would rather the boy die a man than become a monster like him. "I'm afraid I don't know anyone else that matches my description from my home. Any legacy I left behind is rendered taboo now because of my deeds. As for Phoenix's Unborn? I've never heard of them. The cultists from my home are the Abbatial - a collective praising the Infected as pieces of their divided God. No mention of a 'Cobalt Phoenix' though in all honesty, I would prefer that title over False Prophet. Sounds much more modest." [i]Devoid of any past sin.[/i] "I was rather curious, because nobody else shares the same... Strain of virus as me," he says hesitantly at first. Even though Lance was seemingly not of his world, there could still be people looking for him. "I deserted the Tribals after I found my mentor killed by one of the Abbatial's exalted abominations. Well, more like absorbed and eaten. He was damn near melded to the creature when I found him. So I killed their so-called angel and [i]ate it.[/i]" The smile on Lucien's face was most definitely not one entirely of his own. "I drank the holy fire that was its blood. I chewed on the flesh of a God. I inquired to a young zealot before killing the beast, 'if I am to devour a piece of your God, would that make me a demigod too?' That was rhetorical, of course. I do not believe in any Gods. There are only monsters and men." His smile fades, the reality of the past also beginning to dawn on him once more. "I essentially inoculated myself with that Infected's special strain of the virus. It's an arduous process that I only survived because... I inoculated myself through the blood of my mentor. He was still alive, half-infected by the Angel's blight. Begged for me not to do it. Not to become one of them. I was fuelled by vengeance then, and vengeance is a damning fire." Lucien sullenly looks down his sword as he waves it around, a trail of cobalt embers being created slowly behind it.

"A philosopher of my world, named Nietzsche once said, "Beware when fighting monsters, for when staring into the abyss, the abyss stares into you." [i] Lance eyed the man up and down, nodding.[/i] "Seems like the abyss has well and truly stared into you, taken root, and is now living there." [i] It wasn't an insulting comment, but an observation. One Lucien most likely wouldn't entirely disagree with.[/i] "And yes, I suppose you wouldn't know of the Unborn. They aren't of this world." [i] Yet, if Lance had been a part of their ranks, and they weren't of this world, how exactly was Ronin? [/i] "Vengeance is a damning fire indeed.." [i] Lance nodded in agreement, knowing the feeling far too well for his own liking.[/i] "A fire that will consume you, scorch you, and burn you until there is nothing left but ash and sorrow." [i] He spoke with wisdom and knowledge, And most of all, experience. He'd been through a crucible like that..[/i]

"So here we are then, Ronin. Two monsters with the faces of men." He says it solemnly, as he also sees that Lance has been through the same cycle of vengeance he had been through. Though the aftermath took different forms, the past was still the same. A consuming fire that takes all in its path as fuel for the crematorium that they made their homes. "How fitting that I duel you first." Lucien raised his sword towards Ronin, flames licking the air hungrily. Something else told Lance that they were no regular flames either. "This is what the Tribals called a [i]Youtou.[/i] Its name is derived from Old-Earth... Japanese, I think it is. In short it was a weapon believed to be possessed by a demon due to all the blood it has shed. In my home, the Youtou are weapons made for viral strain growths that reflect the host. In essence, I have allowed some of my mutated DNA to grow within the blade and take form, manifesting into an Infected separated from my being. I used to think that creating this would be pushing all of that hatred into something else and being rid of it," he says as he laughs bitterly at the sentiment, "truth be told, one cannot live without the other. With such great love breeds the deepest of hatred - similar to that symbol on your armour. Old-Earth, right?"

"Yes, its Japanese. A blade that has taken so many lives that it's demonic in nature, and must be fed sated with more killing." [i] Lance knew that one pretty well too.[/i] "Yin-Yang. A concept that shows no matter how much goodness and purity of Yin there is, there always be a sliver of evil. Likewise, with yang, No matter how great the evil, good always has a place within, no matter how small." [i] Lance, with his right hand, drew his third katana, the one Lucien had been eyeing. The blade itself was black, everything about the blade was devoid of color. The steel dripped wispy shadows and darkness, pooling on the ground in front of Lance. [/i] "Haven't had to do this in a while.." [i] He muttered, before placing the hilt of the third sword horizontally, to the left in his mouth, teeth clamping down on the hilt. With it, a small burst of darkness took place around the hilt, shadows leaking from the corners Lance's mouth. A seal in his mouth made specifically for his Santoryu. He bent his arms backwards, his two katanas vertically behind the third one in his jaws. If Lucien thought his fighting style was unique..Jesus.[/i] https://imgur.com/a/5ld2J [spoiler]basically what I was going For. [/spoiler]

"'And there was war in heaven: Michael and his angels fought against the dragon; and the dragon fought and his angels,'" Lucien quoted as he saw the man take his sword in his mouth. If Ronin proved to be an equally ferocious monster, he would have no choice but to release his Youtou to survive; to become one with his Hatred. He took a gauging shot with his revolver at Lance - 3 shots of .454 casull, one aimed at his waist while the other two were placed towards his arms. With revolver in one hand and flaming sword in the other, Lucien advanced towards Ronin with a practiced caution.

"Can't say I'm one for bible study." [i] Lance says, crouching as the rounds are fired. He raises The Dragon Blade vertically, the metal seeming to ripple and take on a liquid quality before it widens across Lance's body, in what was a near four foot wall. The bullets bounced off the steel, and the sword shrunk back to its normal size. [/i] "Perhaps you'll get to see my [i]Youtou[/i] Lucien. No one else ever has." [i] He says with a grin, dirt and grass flying away as he storms towards Lucien. An observant person would've noticed the shadows towards his feet, when his speed seemed to almost double. He was nearly invisible, but a trained eye could.[/i] "Three thousand worlds!" [i] Lance yells, before ending up directly in front of Lucien and taking his two swords and bringing them in a vicious downwards double strike, while his third in his mouth flitted sideways and came across at Lucien's throat. [/i]

[i]Hardlight and some kind of plasma edge. Overcoat won't do anything against the likes of those. [/i] Lucien twirls to the side and shoulder charges into the blow whilst ducking, his wide-brim hat being caught by the shadowy blade from Lance's mouth. He allows the Dragon Blade to cut a bit into his chest before twisting once more and letting the sword skitter off his ceramic pauldron. The white katana was parried away just enough by Lucien's flaming sword to take a slice out of his back but ultimately just cut through the whirling leather of Lucien's coat. In a flash of two motions, Lucien's gas mask is on - and a nanosecond after - three shots are fired point-blank into Ronin's stomach, armour piercing .45 colt rounds. It seemed that his reflexes and perception became quite formidable upon putting on the mask. His armour shoulder then rams upwards into Ronin's solar plexus - it wouldn't do much even if he was armoured, but it would drive him back. He was too close for any of Ronin's blades to be of effective range.

[i] Shadows leapt to Lance's aid, forming a barrier between his stomach and the bullets, the darkness catching them and holding them suspended in the air. Lance was driven back, backpedaling a few steps and waving an arm, which sent the suspended bullets flying back at Lucien.[/i] "It's been a while since I've met a swordsman with your kind of speed. I appreciate it." [i] Appreciate it? Almost like he was glad he was coming so close to death each moment. [/i] "You use blue fire. Time to see mine." [i] Lance's arm began to glow, a strange runic symbol on his forearm taking shape. Flakes of darkness began to swirl around Lance's form, and it wouldn't be long before Lucien saw that they were embers of flame. Fire as black as night swirled around Lance in waves. Something that should give off light did the opposite, pooling in streams and balls around him, before stopping and coalescing into one central shape. A massive arrow, made entirely of writhing and burning Pitch black fire. With a wave of his hand, Lance sent the projectile screaming towards Lucien, the arrow starting low and scorching the grass, burning it to a crisp before rising slightly and flying at Lucien aiming to take him in the chest. [/i]

Three flashes of blue fire, and the bullets became nothing more than dismembered pieces of tungsten ricocheting off of his overcoat. Lucien looked at the unholy black flame forming into an arrow and narrowed his eyes beneath the matte surface of his gas mask. [i]Definitely something the Abbatial use if they could recreate the Angel. [/i] Another flare of cobalt flame. Lucien drops to his knees and plunges his flaming sword into his own stomach, the last thing Lance seeing is the look of unbridled Hatred burning in beneath the mask. The smell of brimstone wafts through the air, intertwining with the stench of burning flesh. Thick fog begins to blanket the area, obscuring Lucien and the arrow heading for him. For a moment Lance sees him before the miasma overtakes his form: two colossal burning wings of flesh and feather, with two unholy arms created from burnt limbs clawing hungrily towards the air. The flaming sword was withdrawn from his stomach and held in one hand with the gun in the other, set alight with cobalt infernos like some demented angel of Eden. https://imgur.com/Kd304 And then the fog overtakes him and the shadow arrow.

[i] Lance had no idea what his projectile would do, considering he could no longer see it. But he had a bad feeling it wouldn't do what he wanted. Plan B. The sword between his jaws that continuously dripped darkness seemed to pulsate, before the shadows along the blade leapt and crawled over Lance's being. They covered him head to toe, a cocoon of shadowy blackness..until an invisible breeze blew the covering away. What was left standing was Lance, but not. He was covered in a new set of armor, one made of a glossy silver metal that had spidery black veins of shadow running all over it. Every crevice and ending seemed to branch into a sharp point, along with the better half of his face covered by a reaching metal cowl. The most intriguing part about this new transformation, was Lance's wings of his own. Made entirely and completely of black shadow, they branched from his back and took up a massive area behind him. And yet.. this wasn't the Youtou Lance spoke of. Not likely anyway. The vibe this transformation; and the sword that had caused it, was certainly dark and unnerving, but not quite evil or malevolent. https://imgur.com/a/K3YRP If that's how Lucien wanted to play, Lance could play. [/i]

Lucien emerged from the fog, wings and extra limbs burning with hungry cobalt fire. The arrow had found itself a mark. But not Lucien. In one of Lucien's colossal claws was Ashley May, struggling for breath as a shadow arrow was embedded through the upper right of her left lung. The wound itself seemed to leave all the flesh around it unsaturated, as if it was draining the youthful pigment of Ashley with each passing moment. Tendrils of shadow spouted from the arrow at random, sometimes clawing at Lance's daughter leaving behind oozing black marks. "D-Dad...?" The arms retracted behind Lucien's form once more, one still holding the suffering Ashley May. Lucien brandished his blade as the hungry fire crackles with a malevolent tone as if taunting Ronin. His revolver became set with flesh and bone, the hammer growing an eyeball strangely similar to that of Lance's daughter's... With a flare of cobalt flame, Lucien sidesteps into the fog once more as his burning avian wings begin to beat, wafting the smell of brimstone and burning flesh through the miasma.

[i] Lance's reaction was instantaneous, an explosion of energy whipping outwards from being, shadows lashing and cutting into anything nearby.[/i] "And here I thought you might be a man with a little bit of respect." [i] Lance growls, a swirl of abysmal shadow forming near his neck, towards his collarbone. Lance plunges his hand into it, and withdraws a sword. It's blade was black, with runes running up and down the blade. It was wider towards the hand guard, the cross piece coming out and up into two wicked points. The blade thinned out towards the end. A blue gem sat towards the hilt, and the aura of this sword.. If Lucien had thought the Demon's Heart was bad, this sword made the Demon's Heart it's bitch in terms of bad. It simply radiated feelings of anguish and sorrow, it thrives off of hate and rage, it [b]lived[/b] on the tears of the anguish and the torn. The thing was, it wasn't necessarily evil. Sure, it was definitely bad, but it wasn't entirely malevolent. [/i] "Tell me, False Prophet, what are your nightmares made out of?" [i] Lance said loudly. His white and gold sword was sheathed now, this new blade having replaced it.[/i] https://imgur.com/a/LZBPZ