[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

"...why...?" croaked a small voice - the younger Jonathan May, struck in the torso in multiple areas by Lance's shadowy explosion. He was held captive in Lucien's left Angel-Arm and used as a shield by the man. The arm retracted, revealing Lucien as he discharged 4 shots from his revolver towards Lance before beating his wings as he flies backwards through the fog, sending gales of devouring fire and ash towards Ronin in the process. Lucien does not respond in any way. If he could hear Lance, he did not choose to acknowledge his claim. Quite strange for a man who had such distaste for monsters... But after all, he himself was one of the very demons he abhorred. The casull rounds neared Ronin as the zephyrs of flame surged towards him behind the bullets. The pungent odour of brimstone and burning flesh still dominated the air, if not becoming strengthened as the battle went on.

"Pinpoint." [i] Lance uttered, his finger tips exploding with shadow energy, launching micro lines of darkness and plucking the bullets out of the air. With another wave of his arm, a blue symbol lit up on his forearm, a runic design. Akin to the orange one from earlier, albeit slightly different. Mist began to cloud around Lance, forming water droplets on his armor and soaking the dirt and grass around him. Eventually, the mist condensed into water, and from there, columns of it swirled around Lance in his own personal typhoon. With a gesture, the water around him formed a massive tidal wave and launched from his feet, breaking right at Lucien's fire and swamping it. It clouded the area with even more steam and fog, making visibility nearly non-existent. Though, through the fog, a boy had shown up. His features were indecipherable, but he walked and carried himself like someone close to Lucien. Someone he'd been looking for. Lucien had crossed a line with Lance, and he was prepared to pay it back ten fold. He knew the images were fakes, but that didn't piss him off any less. [/i]

Lucien sees the boy through the fog but doesn't advance upon his position. Whatever state Lucien was in right now... It didn't care for the boy. This was a monster driven by its need to consume, burn and devour - all brought about in Lucien's desperation to preserve his life to find Alister. Yet this demon of his seemed too indiscriminate for someone as Lucien. For through the act of compassion came the birth of something even he could not expect. After all, the greatest trick the Devil played on Man was tricking them into believing He didn't exist. He flew downwards into the fog but well away from the boy. One of his Angel-Arms slammed down into the ground before steam began to rise from the earth all around the boy and extending even farther. Spires of bone begin to crack forth from the ground, bringing about a deluge of flame that engulfs the earth. If Ronin was hiding somewhere in the fog on the ground, he would be immolated or impaled. The bony spikes begin to vibrate violently as they emerge from the ground, releasing unsettling clicking noises throughout the air: echolocation.

[i] Lance was nowhere to be found on the ground. The steam, bones, and fire torched and annihilated the earth, but he was gone. Until..Lucien heard a whistling noise from above him. Lance, having taken to the skies with his shadowy dark wings, was plummeting downwards at Lucien at a speed that was inhuman and quite literally impossible for any human. His swords had changed, or rather, he'd gained some in the form of his Roku Togē technique. In his right hand, he held the Demon's Heart, The second was his Dragon Blade, and the third was Savior. In his left hand hand, a katana that had an orange hilt with flames licking the blade, a blue sword that had permanent condensation on the steel, and a lighter blue sword that seemed to have a permanent swirling wind around it. The most unnerving one though, was the sword he held in his jaws. A sword that was red from the hilt to the blade, and something told Lucien that wasn't paint. Whereas The Demon's Heart and the other sword Lance had drawn were unsettling.. this one was evil, in every sense of the word. Malevolence and hate emanated from it.. the very blade screamed wrong, like it shouldn't exist. But back to the part where he was falling from the sky.. Lance plummeted downwards towards Lucien at the speed of a bullet, as he drew back and struck, his seven swords seeming to slice the very air apart as they lashed out towards Lucien at a velocity that would surely kill most men.. [/i]