Angels and Demons! (Decayuss/Lynn)

"A wanderer isn't always lost."

The wait time wasn't long, it seemed, for already someone was approaching her in regards to the job. She looked quite fit enough to survive this job, considering the difficulty that he estimated it to be. What he was a little bit annoyed by was the way that she introduced herself, and her apparent lack of desire to be there. His red irises looked off to the right in confusion, and then took a glance to the left. "Well if you didn't wanna' come...you didn't have to show." He scratched the back of his head, and then only shrugged. "I'm Deniel. Come on." He beckoned her to follow him in the direction that he was initially traveling. Their destination wasn't far, although it was probably unusual since the location seemed to be literally in the middle of no where; there were almost roads or anything. No travel paths, no nearby towns, not a single soul in sight aside from the two of them. "The council classifies this as an A rank job. Don't know why the Hell they asked me to send it when they've probably got plenty of other puppets...but I don't care. A job is a job. And you'll see once we get there."

And he was certain that she would, and it would probably be much easier to explain with the physical object in front of her. If it was a physical object, anyway. It was not far, only about a hundred meters or so, and right there in front of him there seemed to be a...tear or some sort within the air. As if the air itself had some kind of tear with it, glowing with a mysterious white energy in the middle of no where, it was a rift. Deniel took a few steps closer to it, and a small smirk developed across his features with the right side of his face. "So...they were right after all." Standing off to the side of the rift, one could see that it was seemingly non existent when viewed from the right or left side of it; it was as if it were a two dimensional...rip. "This, my friend, is the job. A dimensional rift. Something that transcends reality and breaks the bonds of space and time. Cheesy, I know, but to put simply: this leads from our realm to another." He stood at the side of the rift as he presented it to her, and upon finishing his little explanation he looked back towards it. The sight of this rift seemed to fill him with a sensation of delight, one that preyed upon one of his deepest curiosities: worlds beyond Fiore. "If you're still keen to follow me, you may enter."

Slipping both of his fingers on either side of the rift, and then ripping it open as if it were a piece of cloth, Deniel made the hole big enough for him to enter, before seemingly dropping inside of it. The journey down was a brief one, but it felt as if he were falling through nothingness at first, with his entire background and environment being nothing but blackness, almost as if it were void of all light except for him. The short lived drop came to a stop when a light hit him, similar to the light at the end of the tunnel, and then he came to a landing.

Inside was a world filled with endless light, a clear sky, and a cloudy ground, it seemed. Deniel himself landed right on his back, and though the fall was painless, the very sudden transition from one place to the next did hurt his head quite a bit. Thus, with his shut eyes, he failed to notice at first that him and his partner were surrounded the moment they entered. Upon opening his eyes he could see winged human figures, each of them having some kind of armor or another, wielding spears or bladed staves that were pointed right at them. Directly in front of them was one whose wings were whiter than all of the surrounding angles combined, along with a second set just below the first. Her staff was sharpened at both ends, and was kept the closest to the two "invaders". Though her face could not be seen underneath the golden helmet she wore, the long blonde hair that stuck out the back and the feminine figure standing before him gave away the fact that she was a female. Not really expecting visitors, it seemed the only logical explanation for her was the fact that they were invaders.

"Take them to the Colosseum."

Notes

"A wanderer isn't always lost."

Shaking away the painful feeling that garnered within his head, Deniel stood up with a frown on his face. He looked straight at the womanly figure who--despite her armor--was still shorter than the figure of Deniel. Two of her guards lowered their weapons and went at Deniel's sides to seize his arms, which he decided to conform to else he would cause unnecessary trouble. "Colosseum, huh? What  the Hell do I look like to you?" His hands were placed behind his back and cuffed together with bounds held together by Magic rather than metal, so breaking them would be a much more arduous task. Now he was already starting to regret fighting back, but maybe things wouldn't be so bad. "An intruder. You are no angel." Deniel, with absolutely no subtlety, rolled his eyes in response and shook his head. "Gimme' five seconds out of these cuffs and I can prove you otherwise." Instantly Deniel found the tip of her spear pointed right at his throat, and just one single push would cut it wide open. "You may attempt to prove me otherwise in the Colosseum. Is that understood?" Deniel, still having seen not many surprises or serious threats, only shrugged: "Sure." She lowered her spear, reluctantly, and ordered the guards to not only take away Deniel, but the girl accompanying her. "And bring the beast, too. See how it fares with them."



"Well, isn't this fancy." The journey to the Colosseum was not long, for after the way had been cleared Deniel found that Lynn and himself landed very close to it; probably why they were discovered so swiftly. After the short walk, they entered the enormous circular building from the bottom floor, and from a side entrance. The interior was decorated with designs of great battles and events, heroes, legends, and monsters, all along the walls; and it seemed as though no face or thing had been repeated, perhaps the entire way around. The bottom level of the Colosseum was very dark, only lit with torches along the way, though the armor of the group of angles did reflect plenty of the light emitting from their armor that they had all worn. After entering the Colosseum, the female leader of them went off in a different direction, leaving Deniel and Lynn to be escorted by the group of other warriors. Perhaps then he could have attempted to break out--and maybe even get away with it--but he was starting to love this game. He was in the mood to play along.

At some point they were lead into a room, and whether or not it was part of the circular underground level was beyond Deniel, since he couldn't care either way. In this room were two exits: one that they entered from, and the other that seemed to venture straight into the circle, obviously leading into the arena. Though the one that lead to the arena was completely sealed off, and so was the one that they came from as soon as they entered.

"When they are ready for you, that exit will open. You are to enter, and if you do not, we will force you to." Deniel only laughed once they left the two of them alone, and sat down in a corner. Sadly, their hands were still bound behind their backs, so movement wasn't all that much possible. "Didn't even have the decency to remove the cuffs. Whatever. So...I dunno'. Tell me about yourself?"

Notes

"A wanderer isn't always lost."

Sabertooth's previous Guild Master...he remembered her very well. Raven, though he couldn't really remember her last name either, as he usually addressed her along the lines of "Miss Raven". The only memory he had of her was quite a pleasant one at first, but very shortly turned gruesome with the pessimistic thought of betrayal that he carried with him as a grudge. As much as he told himself that it wasn't, everything pointed in that direction. He was a little more familiar with Sabertooth's previous Guild Master than their current one, as with their current one he only knew her name. For the time being. Needless to say he was also quite curious about her Magic, which she only classified as "summoning" and didn't elaborate on. Summoning what? The inquiry of the thought occurred to him but he didn't say it aloud; certainly he would figure it out sooner or later. That being said, he also concluded that perhaps he would leave his little description of Magic off on a much more vague note with his justification of it going to be that she would find out the truth sooner or later.

That being said, it was now his turn to return the same that she had asked of him; a little bit about himself as a person. Being honest with himself, he really didn't know where he should start. That he was a Nephalem? A previous Guild Master? Currently a Wizard Saint? That his sword she had yet to see was a miraculously powerful creature trapped within that piece of metal? He hardly even know where to start. "Well..." he began with a sigh coming off of the vowel sound, just to give himself at least another second or two to ponder his thoughts, "Deniel. A Guildless Mage...previously Eclipse Soul's Guild Master before resigning and leaving. Now I'm a Wizard Saint working for morals and money. Magic? Uhhh...I guess the closest classification is Take Over. You'll see more when we get out on that field." After completing his little explanation, he found comfort in lying down on the floor with his cuffed hands right over his lap, heavily bothered by them with the fact that he was uncomfortable with any sort of restriction. Though this was by far not his first time in a prison or cell. "Speaking of which, any idea what we'll find out there? Excited for it? Enthralled? ...Scared? Hahah."

Notes

"A wanderer isn't always lost."

He was curious about her sudden spatter of hysterics to the say the least. Had he said something that she found humorous? Did she just think about something that she remembered was funny? Or did something weird pop up inside of her mind from something that he said? Before he had the chance to inquire what exactly had found her humor, she apologized about it, and he figured she would insist it was nothing if he did question it. Now aside from her short-lived moments of laughter, she came clean that so far the job had been completely boring to her. And for the most part, he had to agree--although he was certain things would spice themselves up sooner or later. Falling into this realm of "Paradise", being captured, and forced into a cell...none of it really excited him or added a thrill, the one thing he searched for in job. And right now, being "captured" wasn't necessarily the most entertaining bit of the job. Reaching both of his arms up to his head so he could scratch it with one finger, a bit of a sigh escaped his lips before speaking. "Yeah...nothin' too fun so far. I've had a lot better adventures than this. Killing enormous beasts, saving towns and villages, traveling to different countries...fighting angels certainly isn't going to be new to me."

Certainly he hadn't eliminated the option of their current predicament being a trap, but it wasn't the highest one that he considered. He had a feeling that the angels--despite quite treacherous--would keep their word that they would be needed soon. There was one thing that he was placing his bets on: that on the other side of these hallways was an arena, and she and him were about to fight in it gladiator style. At least that was the imaginative image that had been created in his head, and more often than not people found themselves disappointed between reality and imagination. Admittedly he had begun to ponder more and more if this was a trap. Ultimately he stood up with another sigh from him, this one sounding a little more irritated than the last. "Well, they're takin' a little too long, then. Guess I'll have to for--" As he begun to speak, the bottom part of his body--starting from his feet and going up--had started to become covered in a bright blue glow of Magic. Though before it could get passed his knees, the other entrance to their cell, the one that lead to the arena, opened up. Ceasing his actions, he looked upon the other side to see the two guards that had brought them in approaching.

"Go now. Your time has come." The angel pointed its weapon straight towards them, and then guided it to the second exit that had opened up for them. From it came the light of outside, the gust of wind, and the murmur of a crowd. Scoffing that he was pretty much being herded like a sheep, but obeying merely because he just wanted his fill of action already, Deniel walked for the arena. As they were about halfway through the hallway, the door leading to their cell shut itself, and the cuffs that bound them had their power zapped out, thus freeing both of their hands. The very first thing Deniel did was stretch them out and away from each other--gloriously happy that he was able to do so. Rolling each of his shoulders back and fourth, cracking his neck using his hands, stretching his arms across...any kind of stretch he could think of he performed.

Getting out of shackles always gave him a sense of freedom beyond imagination.


Entering the arena, Deniel and Lynn found themselves in an enormous circular platform with engravings of certain artistic battles within its metal and stone. Surrounding them from all directions were rows and rows of angelic beings, each of them desperate to see a thrilling battle that would chill them, excite them, and put them on the edges of their seats. There seemed to be thousands of them in total, and upon entering both Lynn and Deniel were greeted with cheers and chants, demanding blood and gore. Still stretching, and this time having both of his arms behind his back, Deniel curiously observed the surroundings. "Huh. For angels they're quite violent. Guess I shouldn't talk, though." High up in the audience, in a location that had specifically been built for her, the angel that had "captured" Deniel and Lynn seemed to have her own booth complete with a throne. Seeing her didn't necessarily put Deniel in the best of moods, though he did keep his temper. Behind them, the entrance to the arena sealed shut, and they were trapped until permitted to exit.

The one up in her booth stood up and walked over to its edge, speaking loudly over the crowd that hushed itself shortly after her words. Her voice was both commanding and powerful. "You!" She pointed down to them, and in a bit of confusion Deniel tilted his head to the side. He pointed to himself, then to Lynn, and permitted a shrug. Ignoring the stupidity of the intruder, she continued. "You have trespassed on our lands, and outsiders must not be trusted! Therefore...you must prove yourselves! Survive in the arena, and then we shall let you free! Now, get rea--"

"Yeah, yeah, yeah!"

Deniel rudely interrupted her both by walking forward, and speaking over her. He had the advantage of his voice echoing through the arena, and he wasn't afraid to yell and shout. Shortly after her little speech was cut off, he had entered the center of the arena while he looked all around. After his brief glance at his surroundings, he had begun to channel the Full Body Take Over he was interrupted from using at the very beginning. Moments of silence passed, until Deniel's body had become outlined in an ominous dark blue glow. The air around him had become of the same color, the surroundings of the arena reflecting the strong light in the center. In one blink of his eyes Deniel retained the red color in his irises, and in another they suddenly turned sky blue. As they did so, bright blue Magic Power that even emitted a couple of sparkles and shines began to creep its way up Deniel's body. It surrounded each and every limb, though it was transparent so one could still see through the blue light what lay underneath. "Witness..." his voice was a whisper, yet could be heard through each and every being in the arena. "The power..." The blue Magic succeeded in covering every inch of his body, from head to toe. And as a flash of blinding blue light flared straight from his location, his voice rose up from the whisper and echoed far beyond the arena itself. "The White Angel!"

Once the blinding light dissipated, standing in the place of Deniel was a suit of shining white plated armor. At least that's what it appeared to be--for he was on the inside. Golden lenses were placed over his eyes, black gaps of lighter armor offered for more flexibility in his limbs. And upon his back was a pair of "synthetic wings"; they were angelic wings, but not made of feathers. Rather it was a metal bar with blue Magic Energy, known as Holy Energy coming out of it in triangular shapes. There were gasps and murmurs among the crowd, but the female up in the booth appeared to be insulted. "Angel!? You are no angel! You possess synthetic wings! You have no feathers! No halo! No crown! And your armor covers your whole body! I wonder what true monster lies underneath...!"

Extending his armored arm, which now had a claw-like gauntlet on its fingertips, the White Angel taunted her with a gesture of moving his finger back and fourth. "Then come and get me..." Responding by returning to her throne, the female angel waved her hand in a bit of a temper: "Soldiers, eliminate them!" From across Deniel and Lynn--whom he sadly had not been paying attention to this point--another arena entrance opened up. What came fourth were three angelic warriors, each of them wielding swords, and covered in armor for the most part; the difference between them and Deniel is that the White Angel showed absolutely no skin. However, for them, when the third one entered the arena, the White Angel drew one of the two katanas that had been at its side, unsheathing the blade and unleashing two swift strikes at the third and final one. In spite of the distance between them, the attacks were plenty enough to cut the poor soul in have right down his center, gone in only a second. The White Angel was underwhelmed, but the crowd was shocked. Two strikes is all it took.

"Hmph!" Sheathing the blade and turning his back on the opponents, the White Angel beckoned Lynn to them. "You can take them both on. They serve no challenge to me."

Notes: Sorry for its length. Just wanted to give you a lot to reply to...

Fight two normal monsters, yay!

"A wanderer isn't always lost."

The White Angel remained in place for the remainder of the fight, which disappointingly was not that long afterwards. Its armored arms were crossed over its chest, and there seemed to be no motion coming from him due to the fact that all of his breathing and blinking were suppressed underneath his armor. Something that struck him as peculiar and a little bit in awe was what happened in between the start of the fight, and them entering the arena. His partner no longer looked like herself...quite significantly different actually. His blue eyes underneath the golden lenses of his helmet narrowed themselves, seeing that the red haired partner was replaced by one with blue hair, and an outfit that didn't really leave much to the imagination. The shoulders of the White Angel shrugged themselves up and down just for a moment, his way of saying 'oh well'. The fight itself didn't last particularly long, which made him question if these were angels or impostors. There's no way mom was that much stronger than all of these warriors... he said to himself in his mind. It wasn't anything against his mother, he just always figured angels were fearless, fierce warriors that were able to wield their blades and weapons in battle to push forward to any victory regardless of the odds. And all he saw now were a group of pathetic novices.

Stepping forward to join his partner at her side, the White Angel uncrossed his arms and stared up at the female one. "You can't mean to tell me that's all you have." If it was, well....needless to say he would be heavily underwhelmed. "Of course not!" She replied almost immediately, giving a snap of her fingers. The gates to the other end of the arena opened up in front of Deniel and his partner, and he awaited whatever was next. "See how you fair against these two guardians."

She's already giving away what they are... Now he was really disappointed. So much so he felt like just charging right up to her throne and killing her on the spot, but he kept his temper and eagerness in check, merely waiting for what came next. Out of the darkness and into the light of the other side of the arena came two angels, larger than the ones before, and in heavier armor. Both of them carried swords composed of pure light, and shields that went along with them. The fact that there were only two hinted to the White Angel that they might be an even bigger challenge...but only time would tell on this point. "You get one, I get the other I guess..."

Notes

"A wanderer isn't always lost.'

Lynn wasn't wrong in the fact that this would all just be something Deniel could do with relative ease. He was willing to be that, to some degree, he could challenge each and every angel in the arena's audience, behind the walls, and anywhere and still be able to get out alive. His partner was very eager to get on with the fight, to which Deniel had only approached it quite calmly and casually. Lynn charged in, and he walked forward. As a way of making his fight perhaps just a little bit more entertaining, Deniel had decided that he should just take a small risk, or merely fool around and see where it got him. Normally he would go right into a battle with breakneck speed with two swords drawn, and some blood being spilled quite soon. This time, though, he only drew one blade. And not only that, but he held it in an improper way. Both of his blades were katanas, and should be used as such, but the stance the White Angel positioned himself to be in, and the way he held his sword, was more for that of a rapier. His posture was straight, and both of his feet were close together. He held one armored arm behind his back, fingers clenched into a fist. The other one was forward with his blade in hand, pointed at his opponent.

"Let's see where this gets me." A rapier wasn't something that he was used to, though he was capable of using, and using a katana like a rapier was just out of the question. His movements were a little bit clunky, and in fact quite ridiculous in the way he held his blade and swung it to parry or block, but it still worked for some reason. Against an actual worthy opponent, Deniel knew he would never even dare to attempt this. For the fight against these so-called 'guardians', though, he knew he had some room to fool around. So he parried, he blocked, he switched his position around, but he made no move to take the offensive, particularly because he knew that if he did, he would switch to his regular sword style by default and perhaps end the battle quickly. So he stuck to a more defensive style just to draw out the fight a little bit longer. His footwork moved swiftly from left to right, right to left, right twice, and much more. The hand behind his back, though oftentimes twitching from a natural reflex to draw another sword and try to give a cut, stayed where it was in a balled fist behind his back. And the hand holding the blade worked it clumsily, and very inefficiently, though despite that... Deniel was not hit a single time. The White Angel was just messing around.

Notes

"A wanderer isn't always lost."

"You know... it's been years..." With Deniel's small speech, he had to interrupt himself to block and parry the next attack of the guardian by stepping back in his stance, and positioning his sword in a very awkward manner that still managed to get the job done. "Since I've used a rapier." He explained, though his guardian opponent seemed to be very silent about it all, and in spite of knowing that he was being fooled with, fought on and on and on. "Hmmm... about seven years, I'd say." As Deniel parried the next set of incoming attacks, and for once he actually sent a swing in, he thought back to his days with a rapier. The attack that he sent against the angel was similar to one of a rapier, with his foot extended, his attack having fluidity and grace, and it was a swift horizontal slash. Naturally his opponent had managed to block it, though the only part about it all was that Deniel's attack was done with a katana, and not an actual rapier. The first time that he had used one was years ago, in Bellum's Private Institution. There he was taught by criminals numerous methods of combat, and among them he was taught how to use various kinds of swords: rapiers, katanas, short swords, long swords, broadswords, and daggers. It was obvious which one of them he favored.

Mixing a sword and another sword's style was something he had a feeling he would never do, but it was quite fun. Sometimes when he blocked or parried an attack, he would laugh out loud and give his sparring partner a bit of a compliment. "Nice one!" He would say before the next swing came, and he would position his blade and body to block the attack with a very swift and fluid motion, "Almost got me!" He would say then, though obviously it wasn't even that much of a close hit. Above all, there were some close calls, and his blocks did seem to be very VERY unorthodox, especially in the eyes of a master swordsman like himself. Though in spite of it all, one thing remained true: he was not hit once. Not a single time. He began to contemplate whether it was time for him to just drop the act and finish off his opponent in just a few moments, but at the same time, he figured he could have as much fun as he wanted. He decided to himself that he would finish his fight just a few moments after Lynn finished her's. Which meant this fight could go on for... he didn't know how long. And he didn't much care. He was having fun, his own sense of fun, and the one that didn't require his body undergoing the process he dubbed 'a thrill'.

Notes

"A wanderer isn't always lost."

Though eventually, this fun would merely hollow out and wither away. In the end, all he was doing was messing around, and sooner or later the instincts of his years built in of combat had started to ignite themselves more and more. Sooner or later he wouldn't be able to resist the burning sensation that combat would bring him. Even a second or so of fighting this opponent would prove to be much more of an entertainment for him than just merely toying with him about it all every step of the way. At some point in the fight, Deniel's stance had involuntarily changed itself from one common of a rapier. His body no longer stood pointed in one direction, and his hand had no longer been behind his back. Instead, he stood facing forward, with one foot planted in front of the other, and his blade was held with two hands instead of one. And rather than the blow come from some kind of awkward angle that would never work, he raised his blade up high and let it come crashing down on to his opponent. The sound of metal grinding against metal and screeching could be heard all throughout the arena, as the white katana blade pierced right through the thick armor that the angel wore, and split it in half right down the center.

The one that was left standing had been the White Angel, his armor had not a single scratch on him, while his opponent had been quite literally hacked in half, with two parts of his body separated apart from each other a few centimeters. One of the unique things that Deniel found about these guardians though, was that they shed no blood. As a matter of a fact, there was absolutely nothing underneath those suits of armor. No skin, no bodies, nothing. Just an empty suit. The eyes of the White Angel--more specifically the golden lenses that were donned upon the helmet--narrowed themselves as he slightly kicked one of the bits of armor. "How peculiar..." he whispered to himself, and then looked up towards the one that had arranged this arena for them. The so-called "Angel Queen", which he had his doubts on. There was no way that this woman was a queen of angels... not even close to it. Deniel's own mother surpassed her and every other angel in this arena in all areas, and could probably take them on at once. In fact, that gave him an idea. If his mother could take on each and every one of these angels, then... "Quite ironic, if you ask me," he began, clenching his hand around the katana's hilt a little bit tighter as he pointed it right up at the so-called 'angel queen'.

"I possess synthetic wings, yet you all call me a fake. A fraud. Not a true angel. Yet with these two, their suits of armor is empty. Mine is not. Furthermore..." the White Angel's other hand reached for the other katana that rest at his waist, sheathed inside of its scabbard. He grabbed on to its hilt with a hand covered in black armor, and slowly drew the blade out of its resting position. "I can show that my strength as an angel far surpasses any of yours. If you think synthetic wings makes me weaker or inferior in any way, shape or, form, then... he had fully drawn the other katana right out from the scabbard, and then pointed the two of them in opposite directions. They were on either side of his body, each of them pointed to one side of the arena. "Come at me. All of you! I challenge each and every angel standing in this arena or its audience. If you truly believe I am some kind of inferior, let me prove you otherwise!" Heeding the call and challenge of the angel with synthetic wings, the ones in the audience took arms up against him, and each drew their weapons. They knew not all of them could fit in the arena at the same time, so some stayed up above in the risers, while other flew right down below to deal with the one that dared consider himself an equal.

There was work to be done right away, and the White Angel wasted no time and spared no expense at dealing with them. Momentarily he crossed his twin blades over each other, and then began. His first step was to leap right behind himself, avoiding the attack of an angel to his backside, and jumping over him at the same time. One of his blades went right into the angel's back, as the other one deflected a blow coming straight for the White Angel. With the blade dug inside of the angel's armor, the White Angel pressed his feet against it, and propelled himself off of it and right into the sky. He would have nothing less than an aerial battle with angels. A unique opportunity, in his opinion. In spite of his wings being 'synthetic' according to the angels, they seemed to work perfectly fine at keeping him airborne, especially considering the thick armor that he wore on all of his body. Luckily he had two blades instead of one, and they each worked to protect him at all sides of his body. In addition to that, it was as if the White Angel could see things in all directions, and sense them coming straight for him as well, and he could. Quite literally.

When a blade came at him from behind, he knew exactly where it was coming from, and moved one of his two katanas to both block it, and initiate a counter attack. One thing that helped him with dealing with all of the numbers was that each and every attack by the White Angel conjured what was known as a Rune Sabre; there were bits and pieces of excess Holy Energy arcing right off of the blows that Vita and Mors made, whether or not they hit or missed. These bits of Holy Energy gathered themselves up at one location near the White Angel's shoulders, morphed themselves into a blade, and after a brief delay, fired themselves at any enemy the White Angel directed it to. One would might imagine that someone would be overloaded and stressed with the amount of enemies coming at them, having to worry about blocking and counter attacking, and the Rune Sabres all at once. And that was exactly the point. This was the thrill that Deniel needed, and the numbers game certainly did help him achieve it. One by one every few seconds or so, the body of an angel would fall out of the sky, only to have another one replace it just seconds later as they came from the arena stands.

Unlike the previous fight where Deniel had been toying with his opponent, this one where his blades danced around his body, clashed with armor and blades alike, and seemed to be blurs all throughout, the White Angel was still hit several times. Impaled by a spear, cut by a sword, the armor did suffer some damage, and there had also been some bleeding on his part as well. Though in spite of that, he kept on doing what he had been doing before, and used his swordsmanship skills do all of the work.

Notes: 8,648/16,000

"A wanderer isn't always lost."

The sound that primarily engulfed the sky was one of metal clanging together against other metal, or grinding right against each other in hopes of gaining enough of an advantage as to split each other in half. The metal that found much more success than the others were the katanas known as Vita and Mors, in possession of the White Angel. The cuts that Deniel had made on each angel as he gained the advantage and the opportunity were not quite deep--though they would be strong enough to completely severe a limb--particularly because of the fact that he had very little time in between each cut. The moment that his blade passed right through his foe's armor, it needed to find some kind of exit path that would guide it to blocking the next strike that came for it just in the nick of time, as to save the White Angel from any kind of blow that might prove dangerous. Occasionally he did miss his chance and opportunity, though that was rare, so there was not to say that his performance in the sky was absolutely flawless.

A blow came to strike him from behind, so he maneuvered one of his katana blades to swing right backwards, cutting one of the angels in the process, to block the attack coming in straight for him, and at the same time, he slashed twice at a target he found an opening in front of him, conjuring four Rune Sabres. Two of them fired at a second target just behind him, the one that he parried the swords with, and their damage was enough to stagger him so that the White Angel may use his sword to deliver a cut, and then quickly move his two blades to deflect the attacks of yet another target. Thus far Deniel had not used a single spell of his arsenal of numerous ones, for he wanted to see just how much he would be able to accomplish with just his blades and his reflexes alone. And the answer to that was quite a lot. Though he wasn't flawless as he had hoped he would be, he certainly was not taking any kind of significant damage. Eventually, however, he would grow impatient with just the growing numbers of warriors, and had finally decided to use a spell, one that would disperse them and perhaps single them out just enough so that he may start using some spells for more flashy finishers.

After parrying two separate attacks, the White Angel suddenly brought his blades in closer to his body, and held them horizontally so that the hilts of the blades were only centimeters apart from each other. In just a single moment, he manifest enough Magic Power to conjure a burst--a burst of Holy Energy. A burst that spread out for a few dozen meters or so. Just enough to create an area to cover all of the angels that surrounded him, they were each knocked out of the way, some of them right out of the sky. This gave Deniel the breathing room that he needed to just take in one deep breath, and begin his assault on them, that would be a little more flashy than just sitting there waiting for his death. Of course his death would never come, but he found this method to just be all the more satisfying. "Let's get started, shall we?" The White Angel's helmet possessed no mouth, but right underneath it, a smirk spread itself across the lips of the flesh. And the golden lenses flared in a bright light, as the blue eyes of the White Angel underneath the helmet flashed for just a moment, activating its Oversoul.

The angel blink right from its spot, fast enough to catch one of the angels mid-flight enough for a cut. When the White Angel delivered the blow, something went right through the body of the angel that he did so on; a crescent slash. A blue one, composed of Holy Energy, about twenty meters in length. It traveled right through the body of the angel, and the angle that the White Angel composed from it was exact enough to hit three separate targets on its way down before phasing out of existence. While the crescent slash had traveled its way down to meet its target, the angel blinked once more and performed another cut on a different angel, yielding a similar result. It hadn't been in a fashion that landed him as many targets as last one manifested, but it was still enough to where he hit more than one target. Once more he blinked, and the same result, and then another time, and then another time.

There were six blinks and six crescent slashes in total, the maximum amount of cuts that the spell would allow, but the amount of blinks that he could perform were nearly infinite. Actually... they were infinite. So long as he met certain conditions. And right now, he was. He paused for a moment in mid-air, as the angels that flew out from the force of the earlier blow made by his Holy Burst to finish their flight. The White Angel only needed a moment or so to think of his next move before initiating it. He tossed one of his katanas right into the air, the blade spinning around several times as it traveled right up to the sky, and would eventually come down. With his blade temporarily out of his hand, the White Angel jerked that same hand forward and reached out with his palm, as if he had been reaching for something close to him. As he made that motion, an enormous projection composed of Holy Energy had performed the same motion, almost like a second larger limb copying the action from the first. And then he yanked this hand backwards as it had caught on to angels, bringing them close enough so that he could initiate his next attack.

Holding his hand up to the sky, the White Angel caught the blade that came down from the sky. Lowering the blade while also spinning his body, the White Angel performed a pirouette while also raising his blade straight up for the sky once more--except this time he didn't throw it. A small core of Holy Energy was created, and the blade shooting up into the sky suddenly ignited that core, causing it to fire up as a pillar of Holy Energy straight into the sky. This pillar then detonated into another pillar, and so on and so fourth, traveling as a line that seemed to be like geysers composed of Holy Energy, and the angels caught in the middle of it suffered enough damage to knock their bodies unconscious and send them toppling to the ground. Shining Wave had also caught in another angel or two as part of collateral damage, which hadn't been Deniel's intention, but it worked all the better for him. "Not bad." He commented as he witnessed the Shining Wave come to a close, and the Holy Energy that surrounded his blades dissipate into the wind like a fire extinguishing. He still had plenty of work to do in regards to the rest of the angels, but he was satisfied with his progress so far.

Notes: 11,280/16,000

"A wanderer isn't always lost."

The White Angel had begun thinking up of his next move to do on the angels, and by that time, most of them had recovered from the earlier spell, or were getting ready to. In a way he let his guard down, as he just stood there in the air, motionless with his sword tapping against one of his shoulders as a way to distract himself while thinking. As he was doing so, feeling a little bit absent minded, one of the angels saw this as an opportunity to just sneak up behind him and deliver a powerful blow. Fortunately for the White Angel, he reacted just in time by merely blinking out of the danger that came from the attack, behind the aggressor, and sliced his wings with both blades, one for each. As if the wings weren't enough for him, he also proceeded to deliver a swift stomp on him to send him straight for the ground"Begone!" Now that he had a few brief moments of peace and quiet to himself, at least until the next angel had attacked him, he gave a few pondering thoughts as to what he should--or could--do next. There was a unique opportunity here with so many opponents, and he wanted to perform some kind of attack in which he hadn't necessarily used before. Or maybe could make one up on the spot.

While thinking, he was once again attacked by an angel, to which he just blinked right out of harm's way at the very last second, but this time he hadn't bothered executing any kind of counter attack. Even when the next one had come against him, and he blinked once more to get a few meters away, and continue his thought process. The more angels that showed up, the more Deniel had to blink away to safety and avoid their attacks, though in spite of their increasing numbers, none of them were able to hit Deniel once. He could have chosen to attack each and every one of them like he had done the one earlier every time that they went in for an attack, but chose not to for the sake of keeping as many of them capable of combat for his next attack alive as possible. Once again he wanted to make a point, a point that thus far they had a very hard time of comprehending. That no matter what they did, they would never defeat Deniel; synthetic wings was something that did not make him inferior in any way possible. Thus far he might even go to the lengths to say he was superior to all kinds of angels with his wings, and that it was some kind of new way of creating angels. The wings did not have to be made of feathers, they could be very easily composed of some kind of Magic Power, that way it would be much less vulnerable to physical harm.

Suddenly an idea came right to his mind, one very similar to the attack that he had done before. The previous Burst that he gave to the angels was one of a weaker spell, a little bit less powerful, but it did get the job done right. And while he was blinking repeatedly, he noticed that the angels were still numerous, but still hadn't changed their tactics all that much. Which meant that another burst spell would be an appropriate one to use in this case. The first thing that had come to his mind was utilizing The Light of Dawn, a very powerful S class spell, and one that would certainly be able to not only defeat most of these angels, but cover enough area to get all of them as well. The White Angel, for a moment, was about to use the Light of Dawn, just before another, even better idea had come to his mind. A spell that he had known the existence of, but never used--at least up until now. Glorious Burst. A combination of the Light of Dawn and the B ranked burst spell that he performed earlier, if he just poured an appropriate amount of Magic Power within it.

Just before he had initiated Glorious Burst, he had also taken into account the range that it covered, and just how far he was from the arena. Glorious Burst was a powerful spell, and could cause a lot of needless destruction if it collided with terrain or structures. And given just how low he actually was, part of the arena would be destroyed, and the last thing he wanted to make himself look like was a barbarian. As a result, he needed to take this battle up to the skies just a little bit more. So while he was doing his blinking and dodging sequence of events, each time he blinked, he brought himself upwards a little bit just a few meters, so that the angels would be forced to follow him in his path. Each and every blink that he performed was one that sent him further up into the sky. And from a ground perspective, it looked as though a giant swarm of bugs or flying objects were moving very slowly but steadily up towards the sky, as the figures of the angels became smaller and smaller to those who would be seeing them at a ground view point. That moment made him think of his current job partner, Lynn, who he hadn't even seen for the past few minutes. Though he assumed that she was probably fine somewhere.

Now that he was high enough into the sky to use his spell, Deniel had finally initiated it. Flowing through his body was generated Take Over Energy, and by sacrificing that energy up to his armor, he was now able to cast the burst spell that he had done earlier without waiting for it to regain its energy back inside of his body. While initiating Glorious Burst, the armor of the White Angel had started to glow; already it had its own glowing effect with the sun's rays reflecting right off of it, but the glow that it emitted at that moment was an unnatural one, and gave the white armor a new definition of white. The shine on it was almost unbearable to see at first, and it only got worse and worse. Eventually the armor of the White Angel became so bright, the angels could no longer bear to look at him, and had to shield their eyes. Even the wings on the White Angel had begun to glow as well, adding a blue color to the bright shining light of the White Angel. "Heaven's Judgment..." he began. He sheathed both of his blades right back in their scabbards, and held his arms so that the elbows were bent at a ninety degree angle, with his palms facing upwards and open. "GLORIOUS BURST!"

Suddenly there was a flash of blue light, an enormous one that covered up well over a hundred meters in the sky. All of the angels had been consumed by the light of Holy Energy, and the arena below was given a very bright blue glow. After moments it dissipated, and Deniel was already right back down in the arena stands, with his foot on top of one of the angel's bodies, as he stared up at Lynn in the stands upon hearing what she had to say. "Say what now?"

Notes:

13,761/16,000

"A wanderer isn't always lost."

"She's quite the hot-headed one." The White Angel released his grip from the angel that he had it on previously, though he couldn't help but just kick him aside. All of the fighting that he had done ceased for the moment, as all eyes were on Lynn and what she was going to do next. He sheathed both of his blades, Vita and Mors, right back inside of their scabbards, and crossed his arms right across his chest. Taking the angel queen hostage? A bold move, but one that was easily accomplished given how chaotic he made things go in just a swift move. None of the angels he battled had died, fortunately, and it was just so that they wouldn't fight anymore, at least for a few minutes. For that was all the time Deniel needed. Some were still left in a fighting condition, but none of them made any moves on Deniel or Lynn with their queen held hostage. If his partner negotiated this right, then the two of them could finally go back to Earthland. It was quite funny, though; throughout the course of the job, he paid her very little attention, and oftentimes completely forgot where she was exactly. Though this time around, she had the attention of him and everyone else.

Her vulgar attitude and taunting ways of negotiating had also scared him for a few moments, making him contemplate whether or not these angels would actually give in. He noted to himself that this would be the first and only time she did all of the talking... if she came across the wrong person with that kind of mouth, then nothing good would come of it. In fact, if he talked to him that way, then... there wouldn't be much mercy on his end. While she worked her 'magic' he decided to take a look around, see the faces on everyone, catch a glimpse at what they might be thinking, and if anyone was attempting to make any kind of wrong move. Given how they had all given up so easily, and so did she, then perhaps they really did care about her. At least that trait of angels were present in these ones. Compassion. They seemed to lack any kind of strength, and were quite reckless to assume anything--in fact the whole 'fake wings' thing was still bothering him--but above all they still did hold compassion for their leader. Regardless of how weak she was. Perhaps to them she was strong. Either way, the only hopes that Deniel had right now is that her recklessness would work out for the better, and that he would be allowed to go back to Earthland already. He was sick of this place as it was... discrimination against one of their kind for his type of wings. Seemed as though angels had that kind of attitude as well.

What's next? he thought to himself as the lenses in his eyes narrowed themselves for a brief moment, going along with his eye motions underneath. I'm not welcome among demons because my horns are a part of a helmet? Hah. The mere thought of it made his skin crawl, due to the fact that even among Angels he was not accepted, and would most likely not be accepted with Demons either. So where did he belong? Humans, ironically, were the most tolerant race he had met so far. And perhaps that was a teaching that he could share with other species. In spite of what they think of humans, they are, in the end, the most tolerant. There are some radical ones, indeed, but a human with a true sense of rational and thinking would be one that didn't judge so quickly or discriminate so harshly. Hm. I do wonder just how true this is... he found himself trailing off in his thoughts yet again, so much so that he almost failed to notice that Lynn's negotiation tactics had actually worked.

He stared down at his own armor, and found it being transparent, fading away from the existence of this angelic world. For a second he thought that he was dying, or something along those lines, but no. He was just being sent back to Earthland. He closed his eyes underneath his helmet, and the golden lenses of it sealed themselves shut as well. "Finally," he said out loud. "We're going back home, Nidhogg." There were still some angels closest to Deniel, and upon hearing the world "Nidhogg", their gaze immediately shifted to the figure that was almost completely out of their world. And in just a few moments, was completely gone as if he ceased to exist. Where Deniel once stood, there was nothing there anymore. The White Angel with fake, synthetic wings, was gone from their world. Perhaps forever.

Right back on Earthland, Deniel hadn't gone unconscious at all. He found himself standing near where he and Lynn had first met, and where the gateway was. He looked around, and found that it was gone entirely. "That's good," he said with a breath of relief. That meant that they had done their job, and now it was time for them to depart. "It's good to be back," a mysterious voice had said. The voice belonged to that of Deniel's blades--which was split in half, but only one of them spoke. Nidhogg was his name, though the current form he took was Vita and Mors. "You said it..." Deniel spoke, nodding. Momentarily he looked around himself and found his job partner. "Catch you later." That's all he said, and that's all he had to say. Right now, the only thing he could think of, was getting back to Talonia so he could just lay down in a bed at the inn, and just take the next day off. What he had gone through was something not out of his level of skill, or anything close along those lines. He just found going between worlds a little bit exhausting, and how long and boring it was made him tired in addition to that.

The White Angel ascended right for the sky, taking off in flight. The vagabond didn't really have a home that he could return to, or a Guild as a matter of a fact. It was just he, himself, and ... himself once more. He was all by himself, and that's all there was to it. Though in spite of that, he found places to live once in a while by just dropping by at inns, taverns, or hotels depending on where he was and how tired he had become in his journey. Most of it was done through walking and not flying, even though one was much more efficient than the other. He did this because flying disconnected him from the world below. It really did make him feel free from time to time, but walking accomplished so many better things than just flying over everything and missing out on so many people and opportunities. Now, though, he was only flying because he just wanted to get back to his room as fast as possible. The one that he resided in was within Talonia, a place that was known to harbor many Guildless mages, and was somewhere that they were all welcomed.

He never imagined himself in a place like that, but it wasn't all that bad. The people weren't nice, but they did have a lot of spunk and character, and could be enjoyable company once you got to know them. It wasn't the cleanest place, but it was quite realistic in its environment. And it was a place where, above all else, he just felt free. The only responsibility he had was just take care of himself and survive. Eat and sleep. It sounded boring, but he was free of troubles and doubts that way. He contemplated all of this on his way back. And once he arrived at Talonia, he flew right inside of a window he had left open for him to go back inside, and landed within his room. Immediately he deactivated the White Angel Take Over, a brief flash of blue light covering the room before it all completely faded away and dissipated. He was standing there now, back in his black clothing, his black hair, and red eyes. No armor... just his clothes. Removing some of them so that he could loosen up just a little bit more, he then collapsed right on his bed, closed his eyes, and gave himself a very deep, long sleep.

Notes:

16,196/16,000