Let the Tournament...Begin!

Well, whoever this Black Swordswoman was, she was quite… blunt. Not necessarily in a rude way, at least not in Mythal’s terms, but she didn’t exactly mix pleasure with business in her tone. She seemed to think the organizers of the fight didn’t much care for her ability, evening going as far as to say that they didn’t think her ‘recovery’ time had been long enough. “Huh…” Mythal simply said in wonder, glancing up past the tall wall behind him. So they’d stuck him with a partner they deemed incapable of fighting? Well, that didn’t say much for the guy lying on the ground who had been fairly easily bested. Maybe they misjudged this gal just a bit.

His attention turned back as the woman decided to adjust her abrupt words and apologize, going through the motions of properly introducing herself and commending his… ‘care’ for her. “Kid, I ain’t here to take care of anyone,” he said with a shrug as he walked over to her, his hands in his pockets. The arena had begun to shift around them, apparently moving so they could face their next opponents. He didn’t seem very interested in that as he stopped right before her and he took her in for a solid beat, raising an eyebrow. “’Sides, by the look o’ things, you ain’t exactly needin’ a babysitter,” the God Slayer said, kicking the foot of the man on the ground. Hibiki let out a small groan in protest but that was the extent of his complaint.

The announcer was going through his routine, though he decided to take ownership of characterizing Mythal and naming their team. The God Slayer scoffed as he looked upwards. “Crow companion? Pair of Doom? Gimme a break,” he said with a sigh. How wonderful it must have been to have that job; screaming into a lacrimaphone and making up names and titles for people. But they did have two people facing them down now and Katsumi gave him the order to take the enemy of the left. He arched another brow at her charging form before he sighed and began to walk forward, clearly far more relaxed in the situation than she was.

Masters walked forward to meet him, a cocksure smile on his face as he rolled his arms in their sockets, stretching himself out. “Didn’t anyone ever tell you to stretch before a fight, man?” He asked as he bounced from foot to foot, putting on a good show.

“My former masters were all ‘bout stretchin’. But I’m not too worried about it,” Mythal said idly as he scratched his scruff.

Masters blinked in surprise at the odd statement but then simply shrugged. “Your funeral,” he stated before he fell into a fighting stance. His hands tucked themselves on his right side, his wrists snapping together with his fingers forming a flesh cage. “Hadō-hō!” He yelled as he thrust his hands forward, unleashing a thrumming shockwave of intense wind and lightning.

The God Slayer’s brows rose as he quickly stepped to the side, just narrowly avoiding the charge attack. It soared past him and crashed into the wall, dispersing into a fluctuating plume of light and sound. He could hear the audience ‘ooh’ and ‘aah’ at the sight, several hands meeting in loud appreciative claps. Mythal glanced back at the singed spot on the wall, cocking his head slightly before he looked back at Masters, who was grinning like a kid in a candy store. “So you’re not all talk then,” he said.

“You’ll talk about this when you wake up! Tornado Blade Kick!” Masters said as he leapt into the air, his body transforming into a spinning top as one leg thrust out. He helicoptered himself the distance between them in a flash, his foot looking for purchase upon the God Slayer’s face. Instead it found his hand, the Darkness King catching the attack and stopping the wild ride before it even got a chance to start. Masters’ smile was gone, now more confused and shocked as he stayed positioned in the air. “Wait…”

Before he could get another word out, Mythal pushed back against the foot in his hand, reversing the spin that Masters had just created a moment ago. The man’s wild cries silenced the crowd for a moment as they watched him spin through the air wildly, only coming to a stop when he crashed into the wall several yards away. He hit it hard with his back, a loud grunt escaping his mouth as he slid onto the ground. He pulled himself up onto his knees, reaching back and rubbing his back as best he could. His eyes were narrowed now in anger as he stared at the God Slayer, incensed rather than entertained. Mythal, on the other hand, took a single step forward and then held out his hand in front of him. He turned it up and waved the man onward, encouraging him to try again. “Third time’s the charm,” he said, the barest hints of a smile on his lips.

Masters growled as he jumped to his feet, his rage feeding his adrenaline. He charged forward, his hand tucking against his side as he prepared his next attack. “Dragon…” He chanted, his hand shaking as his strength poured into it. As he came within Mythal’s proximity, he began to unlock the limb from its spot and bring it forward in a sprinting uppercut, aiming for the God Slayer’s jaw. But as he pistoned the arm up, he found no impact as Mythal dipped his head to the side, avoiding the attack. Yet his hand did reach out, grabbing Masters’ hand by the wrist and then twisted on his heel, dragging the man through the air with him. Down he brought him, slamming the kung fu fighter into the ground with such force, the earth dented underneath him and crafted a perfect outline of his figure. There Masters lay, his eyes rolled back into his head as he wheezed and twitched.

That’s when he heard Katsumi called out, apparently leaving the defeat of the opponents to him. As he turned to look, he saw the Black Swordswoman crashing to the ground almost at the same time as the other enemy… Weevern his name was?... hit the floor too. He looked between the two opponents, now laid out flat and beaten from both their battles. “Uh… alright,” he said, releasing Masters’ wrist and brushing himself off.

As the announcer made the victory call and prepared to start the arena rotation again, Mythal walked over to Katsumi and leaned over to look at her. “You took out the guy on yer own. Sure don’t look like yer as weak as they seem to think,” he said with a shrug, then offering his hand to her. Counting that she took it and hoisted herself up, he took a moment to look her over. “But you could use a pick me up,” he stated obviously as he reached into his new pool of magic. He waved it in front of him and before her, releasing two spells at the same time. Adorning the space just above her head was now a halo of pure darkness, that fed its energy directly into her body and gave her strength. Black, ashy wings unfolded from her back before turning over control to her, making her feel faster and capable of taking to the air should she choose.

He’d timed it perfectly; the arena was already beginning to shift again. “Whose next?” Mythal muttered as he turned.

Mythal had been the one that had been down and out several times. His entire life had revolved around no one believing in him, up until he had joined Fairy Tail not that long ago. Now independent of them, their lessons had stuck true in his heart and soul and with that, came an odd sense of empathy. As Katsumi was brought back to her feet, Mythal planted a hand on her shoulder, doing his best to be as encouraging as possible. That involved having to invoke some of the Midian monk’s ways of viewing lessons. “First step to defeat is to doubt yourself. So long as you think you can do somethin’, you’ll always have a goal to drive towards,” he said as he waved his magic over her, blessing her with beneficial power. She was not as strong as him, no – but she wasn’t weak at all. There was a practice about her that showed experience far greater than her body could give out. What had she said about her body wasting away? Perhaps in time and training, she would reach her level of mastery again.

He’d like to see that. But before he could fathom that, he had to worry about getting through this tournament. As the arena shifted, he turned to face where he could feel the other opponents. The shadows of the arena cast just enough darkness for him to feel their steps and sense their weight distribution. Though it was odd, they all seemed gathered in the same area… He learned a moment later as the walls opened up and revealed the rest of the roster that this was not just happenstance. The rest of the competitors stood there at the ready, preparing themselves in menacing ways to attack them.

The announcer’s shrill voice burst over the lacrimaspeakers once more, announcing a new stipulation to the battle. Anyone that managed to bring Mythal down would be crowned the champion and they even extended that to Katsumi. The Darkness King turned slightly to look at her, curious to see if she was even considering the option. By the look on her face, it seemed she was more offended such a tactic had been used. Two of them against the rest of the roster it was, as the Black Swordswoman offered to take the four on the left while he handled the far more intimidating opponents on the right. He smirked. “Take a few of them down while you’re at it,” he said to her with a nod before he began to walk towards his specified targets.

“This skinny wimp is our opponent?” The fascist ruler cackled as he hovered in the air, his arms crossed over his chest. “Why is he worthy of crowning the winner when I, Vega, the true Ruler of the World, deserve that privilege?”

“I don’t care about rulers or victors. That kid over there is fightin’ her heart out and I ain’t about to let her down by half-assin’ on you lot,” Mythal said as he stopped a few yards from the three men. He reached back and pulled Curse from its resting place, the sword unfolding out as he took it in hand. But then a moment later he tossed it over his back, as if he was throwing it away. But much to the surprise of the three, the weapon halted its fall in the air and then hovered behind him, floating in an upright position. The Darkness King pointed at the boisterous, self-proclaimed leader. “You first then.”

The wicked man growled as purple fire ignited itself around his body, basking him in the violet hue. He jerked forward and spun, becoming a twirling ball of flame meant to crash into Mythal. The God Slayer watched him approach before he twisted his hand towards the ground quickly and then up, summoning forth a wall of pure darkness. Vega smashed into it, twirling violently against the smooth surface to no avail, like a screwdriver against steel. As the wall held him in place, Mythal’s left hand opened up, pulsing black and purple magic fluctuating in his palm as he held it close to his flesh. In an instant he dispersed the wall, sending the twirling Vega right at him. But the fascist was met by a cycle of darkness that erupted from the ground beneath him, sending him skyrocketing into the air.

Mythal’s eyes flashed gold for a brief moment before the ground began to quake all in the arena. Blobs of darkness began to seep out of the ground, congealing and forming a veritable wall of shadow as they climbed higher and higher. Within moments, a dome of darkness had been forged over the arena floor, blanketing the entire area in near pitch-black darkness. Katsumi would be caught up in it as well but she would probably be surprised to find that her vision and body were unaffected by the endless emptiness.

From behind Mythal’s back came another wall of darkness, much like his previous barrier, yet it rose much higher. As it towered over the Darkness King and his opponents, black growths appeared all along it’s flat side, similar to tubes but more like cannons. Purple light began to fuel into the ends of the cannons and as Mythal flicked his wrist, darkstarlight exploded out from the muzzles and down upon the ground below. Every competitor save for Katsumi and Mythal were suddenly swallowed up by the bright violet explosions, their cries of agony drowned out by the detonations. As the first volley ended and an eerie silence fell over the arena floor, the cannons reloaded and unleashed another volley of darkstarlight, glassing the dark area once more.

With a sigh, Mythal flexed his hand and the wall of darkness and the dome crumbled around them. The light of day broke through the shadow and the audience, which had been murmuring in confusion, grew in volume. The entirety of their last opponents now lay on the ground, beaten and unconscious from the two-fold attack sequence they had just suffered. Mythal breathed in and flexed his hand once more, glancing at the limb. “More destructive than I thought…” He murmured to himself about the state of his new dark magic. His eyes rose to glance at Katsumi. “You alright over there?”