[Southeast] It was like this when we got here!

No matter how the wind whipped and howled, the mountain could not bow to it - and it was important that the people of Varsi see the power of their owners, even through their agents. As Kira bore down on Albrecht, her blade ringing with righteous power, Albrecht could see that there would be no evading such a powerful strike. Were he any closer to mortal, Kira's opening attack would strike his heart and tear it from his chest - and possibly his chest from the rest of his body. There would be no defense. He saw it. Everyone saw it. Good.


Albrecht's anima flared, and the attack rebounded harmlessly off of his very flesh, for all to see. It simply hadn't harmed him. Let all know the power of the Yozi. Let all despair at the futility of resisting the rule of-


She'd cut him. He felt something he hadn't felt in a long, long time; his skin being broken. Albrecht's eyes widened in shock, and several more unfamiliar things happened at once. A red haze of fury clouded his mind. Dread that he was facing an opponent actually capable of harming him settled into the back of his skull. Glee pounded its way up from the deepest recesses of his spiritual heart, ignoring the mechanical incapability of the physical one. She'd actually hurt him. She would pay. The idea that he could be harmed was almost completely alien to Malfeas, in spite of his state of torture and defeat - this arrogance pervaded his servants, his Exalted, who carried this attitude into battle. And like Malfeas, they were prone to reacting in a haphazard way when confronted by a legitimate challenge. It was something that, like Malfeas, they barely understood. 


Albrecht's essence exploded, the sickly green flames combating Kira's golden Aura. The flames whirled and spun, tearing and joining like spun sugar, until coalescing for one moment in a flash of radiant blue - forming the outline of a feminine figure who was energy than flesh, seemingly held together by pieces of armor, her wings wide and jagged as crystals in spite of being made of glowing, beautiful blue. In one hand she held a magnificent gold-and-silver glaive, in the other a massive tower shield, both covered with blazing runes describing glorious battles of ages past, present and future. For one beautiful, serene moment, she raised her armament as though to intercept further attacks from Kira's golden figure, her visor lowered and hiding all but the impression of a mouth. 




She remained for only a heartbeat. The green flames enveloped her, and the air was filled with a keening, horrific metal screech as spectral green chains erupted from the ground and appeared from the sky, impaling the wings of the angelic figure. Her shield fell first, then her blade, the spear-tips of the chains impaling either arm bloodlessly. Her wings were bound, she was brought to her knees, and gave a cry of dismay as Albrecht's green aura washed over her body and changed radiant blue into vile, sickly emerald. Her distressed expression twisted into one of delighted madness, and although she struggled at the chains that now whipped to defend and strike with Albrecht, it was the struggle of a lunatic at his bindings and not a noble soul longing to be free.

Eyes blazing with insane hatred, Albrecht's fury extended to his weapon - the blade of which took a chunk of his anima's flame and made it solid, infusing his attack. With incredible power, his halberd came down with the whiplash of the bound angel's chains, a blow that Kira was only narrowly able to dodge - no doubt feeling the feverish heat of his blade passing by, slicing the air. Albrecht's halberd missed it's target and slammed into the stone of the plaza, shattering the tiles on impact and sending radiating cracks of damage spiraling out in all directions.


The townsfolk of Varsi took several steps back as the air grew heavy, scattering from the hairline fractures as though they might open and take them to hell. Fearing the worst, Shi-Oda turned his attention from the guards - who no longer seemed interested in intervening - and tightened the white-knuckle grip he kept on his blade. He might be honor-bound to not interfere, but every vow had it's tests, and honor meant nothing if one never struggled against and with it.