Festival of Embers

The burning summer sun had long since passed its zenith, slowly cresting down towards the surface of the ocean that surrounded the island on all sides, almost touching the endless waves, illuminating the horizon with bright orange and red hues that were reflected off the mirror-like surface of the sea. Today, all of Earthland would celebrate an event that occurred only once per year, the annual Summer Solstice, the inhabitants of Amber Island, while still not even close to being as plentiful as those of the metropolises on the mainland, being no exception to this. It was a special occasion, truly, one the Ambassador of Dies Irae hoped to seize for himself. He had something in mind, a certain woman occupying his thoughts in a nigh constant as of late, and so had found his way to a familiar door.

The man had discarded the normally so recognizable uniform of an Ambassador, now wearing a simple, yet elegant black suit in its place, and while he looked the part, he was nervous. This was the first time in his life he would do something like this, and was almost completely unfamiliar with the rules and conditions that were attached to what he presumed was now a relationship between himself and Amalie. Quite unsure how to act, though determined in the fact that this was an excellent opportunity, the man took a deep breath, raising a hand before knocking against the material of the door three times in quick succession.

He would wait for a few moments until, he would assume, the door would open, smiling sheepishly at the sight of the Articulation Mage. "Good Evening, Amalie", the man's tone was official, as it tended to be, though also nervous, holding a certain level of shy familiarity as he spoke. "I'm sure you've heard of the Midsummer Festival happening in town?", Johann asked quickly, though barely gave the woman time to respond, following up this question with another one, "So, uh, I was wondering ... if you'd ... like to, you know, uh, go there with me?"

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Word Count: 346
Word Count Total: 346 / 1,500

The man's expression changing to a sheepish smile when she opened the door, grinning even more when she seemingly accepted the request to go to the Festival together with a simple, yet efficient response, the soft peck on his cheek causing a somewhat atypical reaction from the Ambassador, the man blushing only slightly. "Of course", the man smiled back, his heart, or in this case, the lacrima in his chest, pumping a little faster with excitement and a small rush of adrenaline that manifested as a tingly sensation in his stomach, though began to subside as quickly as it had appeared. The man took a few steps forward and into her living space, now that he was thinking about it, seeing the same for the first time since she had moved into the West Wing of Dies Irae's guild hall. He took a few glances around as Amalie disappeared to, he assumed, prepare herself to go out. Her place was tidy, certainly more organized than his own accommodations, a fact that lingered in the man's mind for a little bit, he didn't have the time as of recently to take care of everything on his own, but in stylistic choices resembling the apartment he had seen on Tolgalen. Quite comfortable, or at least, that was what it looked like. It was fitting, really.

So, he would stand there for just a few minutes, waiting for Amalie to return, turning towards her when she did, his eyes widening at once. The outfit was really quite stunning, to say the least, a smile spreading across his face once more. "You look beautiful", a rather simplistic compliment, frankly, though honest truth, the slight blush again finding his way back to the man's face. This really only served to intensify the sense of excitement, and really, who wouldn't be excited to spend an evening with a date like her. The man was quite looking forward to it. With the Articulation Mage taking his arm, he turned for the exit to her apartment, responding simply with "Yeah, let's".

On the way down to the port town, where most of the festivities were already in full swing, he would try to catch up with her, the usual Smalltalk, of course, "How have you been?", and the like, but it was something that interested the man nonetheless. It hadn't been too long since the two had last seen each other, though that also meant that the incident with Anima hadn't been too far back, and the man was slightly worried about these circumstances still. In any case, after walking down the paved stone path to the town, the first clusters of houses and roads of the ever-expanding settlement would soon appear before finally, they found their way into the town proper. The houses to both sides of the road had been decorated with banners and garlands of bright yellow, orange and red hues that gave everything a festive look. All around them lanterns were being lit, warm orange lights flooding the streets around them in their glows. It was quite a beautiful sight, that much was sure.

A short walk later, the two would themselves at the town square, the normally already bustling hub of trade and social exchange now even more lively. Stands had been set up everywhere, festivalgoers eagerly shopping for food and snacks, products from the latest harvest, and participating in a plethora of festival games that were advertised by loud and similarly energetic men and women at every corner. The Ambassador, amongst the crowd, even recognized the odd face from the guild, it only now occurring to the man that, with Amalie at his side, this would almost certainly make their status public. The Ambassador taking one of the guild members on a date seemed like an excellent topic to inspire the minds of the more ... creative members of the guild, his mind going back to the redhead that had scattered her ... interesting writing across the guild hall a while ago. Then again, it didn't really matter, did it? To Johann, it certainly wouldn't. "Well, this is quite the sight for our remote little island, isn't it?", he commented casually, taking a look around with a pleased grin on his face. "Wanna try some of those games?".

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Word Count: 716
Word Count Total: 1,062 / 1,500

When the woman spoke Johann raised an eyebrow, simply listening to her curiously, interested in what she had to say. It seemed that her situation had taken a turn for the better, a much needed relief after the events that had unfolded in the Trial Grounds not too long ago, though it seemed there was something the woman was holding back. It didn't matter too much for the man. "I'm glad to hear you're feeling better", he smiled, deciding it would be best to leave that alone for now, a sentiment Amalie appeared to share.

Just a few minutes later, when the two had found their way into the bustling crowd and walked through the aisles of shops, carts, and stands that hosted all manners of festival games and known delicacies, Johann, upon hearing her response, began looking around, admittedly somewhat looking forward to perhaps unwinding to some of the games that were offered. It would be a nice change of pace compared to the usual business of a mage of Dies Irae, certainly, and a good opportunity to take their mind off the work they did every day. A break couldn't hurt. A grin spread across the man's face when he spotted something that piqued his interest, the man raising his hand casually as he pointed over. "Well, why don't we try-".

"Fire!", the scream interrupted him, the Ambassador turning his head, a large part of the crowd around already trying to hurry away from the orange and red glow at the end of the street in a panic, clearing the space around in a matter of moments. One of the various stalls was alight, flames curling up the sides of the structure, growing in intensity by the second.

Johann reacted instinctively, running forward and extending a hand, the runes on the extremity lighting up in a deep azure, shooting out a stream of water. Within seconds, the flames would be extinguished, the Ambassador of Dies Irae taking a deep breath. Well, that had certainly been a shock, but it appeared that, despite the damaged property, the various onlookers were fine. The God of Ishgar turned to the woman, about to say something, when behind her a massive source of magic seemed to erupt from thin air, a burning swirl of flame forming before, just moments later, dissipating, revealing that it had left behind someone, or rather, something that had definitively not been around before.

A massive, beast-like creature, horns adorning its head and with club in hand stood there, flanked to each side by glowing humanoid creatures, light emitting from their forms, which were in turn surrounded by a small swarm of fae-like creatures, a trail of embers following them as they flew through the air, unleashing their malicious cackles in unison. Another monster invasion? "Amalie, watch out!", the man called as the smaller spirits started to spread out, shooting forth small flames and cinder around them, fires springing up all around them. Of course, they couldn't have a single day for themselves. The group of civilians, at this display, once again had begun to flee from the scene. At least they made some space. These monsters, judging by their actions, seemed like they held no good intentions, well, it was painfully obvious. What was more important, however, was that they would pay ... pay for interrupting his date!

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Word Count: 562
Word Count Total: 1,500 / 1,500
Additional WC: 124

It seemed that the woman reacted instantly and in a practiced manner, the jagged shards of glass from her magic filling the air around her quicker than Johann could intervene in any way. Not that she needed any support. The shards zapped forth through the air that was filled with glowing embers and cinder towards the strange creatures, destroying a bunch of them in a familiar, brutal fashion. As someone who had suffered from the attack before an uneasy feeling ran down the back of his neck when he witnessed the display of power, though he couldn't help smirk. It was really quite impressive how much the woman had grown in this short time, especially considering how conflicted she had been in regards to Anima not that long ago. It truly appeared like Amalie had made peace with the Seal and was now working in tandem with the creature ... and Johann was intent on doing the same.

"Mars!", the Ambassador called out a command as he assumed a combat stance, his left eye, as usual, undergoing a transformation as the seal made its presence known. "Won't have to tell me, old man". The words in the same distorted voice as always would echo through the man's mind before he vanished, his form blurring in an insane burst of acceleration. While Amalie engaged the big guy, Johann would take out the rest of the small ones, his leg crashing into one of the beings of pure light that seemed perplexed at the sudden disappearance and the fight between their leader and Amalie. The God of Ishgar would make sure they wouldn't get a chance to react, not after they had interrupted the first date between the two. Out of a mid-air spin, his foot would slam into the side of the creature's head, a shockwave bursting from the impact as the spirit was instantly rendered defenseless. Lucky for Joh, the ability to strike spirits with his aura would benefit him, the force of the attack killing the opponent that would burst into a puff of yellow energy just a second later. The Ambassador was not yet done, though. As soon as he recovered his posture when his feet touched the ground, his form would blur again, his fist burrowing into the other elemental less than the blink of an eye later. The creatures form was torn asunder before finally exploding into a similar puff of light and energy.

Still, he was not done. The smaller, fae-like creatures that saw this squeaked in shock, turning away to flee, though would soon find their own demise. Wordlessly, the festival area would darken for just a moment, a sphere of shadows spreading out around the Ambassador and vanish as quickly as it had come, leaving everything but the sprites untouched. Frozen in place, one by one would slowly crumble, turn into ash before finally scattering in the wind, leaving behind no trace of their existence. Johann took a deep breath, turning his head to Amalie, noticing that she had impaled the huge, beast-like creature with apparent ease, though seemed bothered by this fact, hurrying over to a stall and then a barrel. Johann raised an eyebrow. "Uh, Amalie?", he asked questioningly, making his way over, "Is everything alright?", reaching her to see that she was hastily trying to clean what he could only assume was blood from her dress. A grin spread across the man's face. "Got yourself a little dirty, huh?". He couldn't suppress a snicker. "Let me take a look". Amalie was understandably upset that her astonishing outfit had been tainted by these intruders, though it was now that Johann's proficiency with blood would become useful.

The man stretched out his hand, the crimson liquid that had seeped into the fabric detaching itself from the dress as the blood followed the man's command and movements, leaving behind fabric that appeared as it had never been stained in the first place as Johann pulled the drop of blood from it before dropping it onto the ground next to him. "Good as new. With that out of the way ...", Johann threw a look back over his shoulder, feeling bad for the unfortunate Soldiers that had to clean this mess up. Still, it would leave behind a question, was this another monster invasion as he had witnessed a few times before, or was this an isolated incident that wasn't connected to the others? A question for another day. For now, Johann would focus on where they had left off, reaching out for the woman to take his hand. "... shall we resume?".

It was disappointing that so early into the date it had already been disrupted by an unfortunate occurrence, though the man figured that they couldn't do anything about that, and taking out the creatures that had invaded the festival was certainly better than leaving them to rampage around and possibly deal horrific amounts of damage. In a sense, it was luck that the two had been there at this time and place. Now, however, the man wanted to see about the game that he had had in mind earlier ...

Turning a corner, Amalie hopefully following him, Johann would leisurely raise his hand and point over at a Dunk Pit, a man sat on a board above a large pit of water shouting at bypassers. Johann had never seen a game like that before, and admittedly, his intrigue had been captured. "This looks like fun, doesn't it?".

Johann, with hasty steps, began making his way over, the smile immediately vanishing from his face when the man on the board addressed him "Hey, old man!". Without much effort or experimentation, the other had found and hit the Ambassador's sore spot. "Surprised you found your way without your glasses". Johann's eyebrows ever-so-slightly narrowed. Oh, he'd show him old man. Not hesitating, he turned to a man beside the construction, who seemed to be offering the festivalgoers balls to throw at a plate with a bullseye on it. Johann understood how this worked. Oh, he would get his sweet, sweet revenge and give the other a nice, cold bath. Handing the man a few jewels, he would receive 3 balls, and so the game would begin.

"Let's hope that you won't miss, geezer. Should've gotten your eyes checked before, heh". Johann simply grinned. He'd show the guy.

The Ambassador quickly took aim, throwing the ball, though missing the plate only barely, the man on the board immediately erupting into furious, exaggerated laughter. "Haha! I knew you should've brought your glasses! Don't give up, old man, you still have two more". "Just you wait ...", the man grit his teeth, taking aim once more before throwing with a little more vigor, hitting the plate right in its center! Much to the Ambassador's disappointment, however, the ball simply bounced off the thing ineffectually, Johann frowning. He had hit the thing dead on! "HAH!". The man on the board could barely contain himself. "That's what you call a throw? My grandma's stronger than you! But thinking about it, she's probably also younger than y- Hey, what are you-". Johann had turned from the plate to the man on the board, death-gripping the last remaining projectile, a crazed grin spreading across his face as he drew back wide, an aura of intense magical power erupting around him. The man on the board seemed to pale for just a second before realizing what the other planned, immediately turning, losing his balance and falling into the pit of water just as the Ambassador threw, the ball tearing through the backside of the construction and vanishing in the distance.

"Oh, I'm sorry, my hand must've slipped", Johann chuckled to himself as he turned around to walk away, the dumbfounded and drenched man staring at him with open mouth as he did. He made his way back over to Amalie, a little disgruntled, hoping the woman wouldn't start to mock him as well. "I don't think I like that game".

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Word Count: 1,338
Word Count Total: 1,462

"Delightful isn't what I would have called it ...", the Ambassador followed up on the woman's comment quickly, but was willing to brush this event aside with a simple "Yeah, let's" as she took his hand, pulling him forward and back into the crowded streets around them that seemed to be filling with more and more enthusiastic villagers and members of the guild alike. Perhaps this little festival would serve to begin to facilitate a sense of unity amongst not just the Soldiers, but also the islanders, a prospect that made the Ambassador hopeful for the future of Amber Island. The land he had once called home hadn't seen this much activity in decades at the least, and seeing the place develop, grow, and spring back to life once more admittedly warmed the man's heart a little. Well, an "old man" would be allowed to be nostalgic every once in a while, wouldn't he?

In any case, as he was somewhat lost in his sentimentalities and following his date, Amalie seemed to stop for just a moment before making a determined beeline towards a stall, the Ambassador, who was now paying attention to his surroundings a little more intently once again, recognizing it as another festival game. "A gun range?", the question would linger in his head. While the man was of course somewhat skilled with a sword, he had trained a long time to attain proficiency with the weapon, he really couldn't quite boast with any notable skills in marksmanship ... or any gunnery, for that matter. He had held a firearm before at some opportunities, here and there, when he worked as a Mercenary in Bellum or as a Sailor in River Village, for example, but he had never trained with one, let alone even fired one. Still, on the other side, it seemed that Amalie had taken a particular interest in the activity. Was she perhaps familiar with them?

The man looked over to her, not failing to notice the challenging glint in her gaze, a slight smirking spreading across his lips. Indeed, Amalie confirmed the hint of a suspicion that had befallen the Rune Mage, and not just that, she was challenging him. In honesty, Johann found the prospect of such a ... competition fairly exciting. He had never faced off against Amalie other than the little bit of swordfighting they had toyed with, which, in all matters of classification, really couldn't be counted towards this. "Interesting?", he promptly replied with an intrigued tone when Amalie went even further. The little bet that she had come up with was playful as always, and it seemed like the woman to suggest something like this. "Well, that's quite the high stakes you're setting there, Amalie ...", Joh grinned amusedly as he returned the gaze she had set onto his bichromatic eyes, placing a little pouch of jewels on the counter and reaching for one of the rifles on display before them, "... of course, I accept. I hope you're ready to meet my every demand", he joked, shouldering the weapon. Of course, in reality, the Ambassador wasn't too confident in a victory, but the bet seemed like a little harmless fun. What was the worst that could happen, really?

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Word Count: 541
Word Count Total: 2,003
Thread Total: 3,390

Johann's grin was quick to fade when he started to inspect the rifle, peering down its iron sights, taking a look at the mechanisms, the barrel, its parts, realizing that he had trouble identifying them and the function they served, apart from the trigger. He was well and truly lost. The vendor explained how the weapons functioned, though that didn't exactly help the silver-haired Ambassador much, only touching on the reload process and the number of hits. At least, he thought, the last part was more than clear. "Take aim and fire", he repeated the words in his head, giving the vendor a nod. It couldn't possibly be that difficult to hit a target, right? The man guessed he'd just have to try it out for himself. It was then the man glanced over tot he targets, raising his eyebrows in unison. It wasn't that all the targets were stationary as he had thought, and while some were, most others would move from side to side, up and down, left to right and vice versa at varying speeds. Well, this would certainly ... complicate things ... a lot. And while the man was still wondering about this very fact, the ring of a bell would sound, catching the Ambassador off guard.

The perplexed man quickly shouldered the rifle once more, pointing it downrange, his eye peering over the iron sights at one of the stationary targets. He pulled back the trigger, and with a soft bang, softer than he had expected, the projectile would be launched from the weapon, barely missing the target. He adjusted his stance, leaning forward before pressing the trigger once again, a metallic ring confirming his hit. Though, by now the man realized that his achievement was nothing compared to Amalie's confident technique, several dings ringing out in quick succession, startling the Ambassador. Not to mention that all of the stationary targets had already been taken out, so he had to move on to something more difficult now, picking a target in the corner of the stall that shifted up and down slowly. Once more, he pressed the trigger ... nothing. He took a deep breath, firing again, and again .... nothing. His brows narrowed. This couldn't be so hard. There had to be some kind of trick. He took a deep breath once more, though this time allowing his magic to run through his body freely, the flow of time around him seemingly slowing down as the speed of his reflexes increased. This would certainly make hitting the target easier, and with a confident pull of the trigger, Johann would shoot once more, the metallic ring sounding the blink of an eye later. This could work, he would-


The bell rung out, signaling the end of their little match. Had they really had this little time? How would it be possible to even hit a high number of targets in such a short time? The man placed the rifle on the counter before turning to Amalie to see how she'd done. Surely, she wouldn't be too far ahead, o he thought, his jaw-dropping a little when he learned of the opposite. "Thirty-eight...?", he mumbled upon hearing the result, comparing it to his meager two hits. It was quite impressive, to say the least. "Wow, that's ...", the man tried finding a word for his surprise, though in his astonishment over the difference between their result failed to capture an adequate response. "Well ... guess that means you win", he chuckled with a defeated, but amused smile. He'd had no idea that the Articulation Mage had been this good with firearms, but he was glad that he could learn something like that about her. Besides, the little competition had been fun, had it not? That was the point of a festival, after all. "So, oh great winner of bets, what is it that you request of me?", the Ambassador would grin promptly, bowing forward, waving his hand through the air before pressing it against his shoulder in a playful act to comply with the conditions set by their competition. Now he would just have to see what Amalie would come up with, hoping she wouldn't go overboard with the creative freedom granted by her reward ... at least, not too much.

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Word Count: 716
Word Count Total: 2,719
Thread Total: 4,753

Although her devilish grin was a somewhat worrying circumstance, the Ambassador trusted Amalie to not abuse the reward she'd earned, hoping that whatever it was that seemed to entertain her so greatly was something that he, with good conscience, could follow up on. For now, he'd have to be content with what it was, following Amalie when she turned and began walking away to explore the rest of the festival, taking her hand into his own. So far, so good, at least. There wasn't much that captured the Ambassador's interest or fascination with overwhelming particularity, and so, for now, he would simply enjoy the cool evening breeze and the magnificent scenery the people of the town had created. At every corner, cheerful music would be played, and people were laughing, dancing, and enjoying themselves. It had been a long time since the silver-haired Rune Mage had last witnessed something that came close to the atmosphere of this place, the event, even if not inherently magical, holding something of its own kind of magic.

That was until he felt Amalie's gentle tug in a certain direction, the absent-minded Ambassador turning his head in surprise, but followed the determined Commander into a large gathering of cheering people, unaware of what exactly he was heading into, though trotting behind nonetheless. He would, after all, have to do anything the woman asked of him.

Approaching the attraction after Amalie, Johann, too, would lay eyes on the ring, witnessing the zenith of what seemed like a fighting match unfold before himself. Within a moment, the man's intrigue had been sparked, not least due to his own fascination with this particular activity. "Sure!", he replied with less than subtle enthusiasm, eyeing the events transpiring inside of the provisional ring with obvious captivation, an uncharacteristic grin on his face as he watched Joey "The Smasher" Swalsh finish off his challenger. When the host loudly beckoned another one to take the unfortunate soul's place, Johann didn't even so much as hesitate, already taking off both his jacket and shirt, pressing them into Amalie's hands and, with his upper body half-covered in the fine, ink-like scripture on his skin exposed, waltzing forward into the ring, calling out "That would be me" at the announcer who promptly cast a wide grin at the Ambassador, clamoring into the microphone once more.

"Ah, a new contender for the title of champion rises to the challenge! What's your name, good man?". "Joh", the Rune Mage responded promptly, anticipation written all over his face. "Wonderful! So, Joh, are you familiar with the rules of this ring?", the announcer asked, Joh simply shaking his head. "Not a problem. It's simple, really. Rule number one, Magic is not permitted in this ring. We fight fair and square, alright? Rule number two, fighting dirty is off-limits. No hits to the crotch or face, got it?". Simple enough, really. "Got it".

"Alright!", the man proclaimed excitedly, his voice echoing from speakers around the ring, "Looks like we have ourselves a fight, Ladies and Gentlemen!"

Johann quickly stepped up, taking position across from his opponent, now getting a good look at the man that was so eloquently dubbed "The Smasher", the other eyeing him similarly with a confident if not sly grin. Johann understood where the nickname came from. The man was definitively muscular and looked like he break stone in half with his bare hands if he so desired.

"Okay everybody, get ready, on three". Johann raised his hands, his hands tightly clenched into fists, the smirk on his expression stretching with excited confidence.

"One". His opponent did the same

"Two". A nervous feeling spread through Johann's gut as he listened for the signal to start that came slightly delayed as a means to build up tension.

"Aaaaand ... Three! Fight!", the bellowing voice of the host echoed through the speakers around them.

To the Ambassador's surprise, Johann was not the first to seize the initiative, his experienced opponent charging straight at him with a massive punch, the man only narrowly avoiding to block the strike with his arm, the dull sensation of pain pulsing through the affected extremity, a feeling that Johann had not just grown accustomed to, he had learned to cherish it. He had to think quickly and act quicker, though. The Smasher was a man that surprisingly agile for his size without lacking a bit of power, nearly knocking the silver-haired man off-balance with only one hit. The champion spun around, his leg flying at Johann's torso with a wide roundhouse kick, sinking into his stomach, forcing the air out of Johann's lungs with an audible gasp and sending him flying to the ground, his face unceremoniously smashing into the ground with a loud "oooh" from the crowd around. Undoubtedly, that wasn't The Smasher's first tango.

But Johann wasn't exactly a weakling. Taking a few heavy breaths he swiftly stood back up, his dual-colored, angry eyes were affixing themselves to his opponent once again, the Ambassador wiping away a small trickle of blood that had burst from the corner of his mouth, the grin returning to his face. "My turn"

Utilizing his own agility he rushed forward, dodging past a swing that would've struck him in the shoulder to sink his fist into the man's chest just a moment later, bringing all his strength to bear. His hand felt like he had punched solid stone, but the strike had taken its toll, the champion tumbling back, gasping for air for a few seconds before righting himself again, the sly grin from before changing into a genuine smile. "Not bad for an amateur", The Smasher scoffed, Johann chuckling in response. "Could say the same about you". Joey seemed none too pleased. Visibly angered he once again attempted an attack, his fist, however, against the ring's rules, flying at Joh's chin. The Ambassador ducked, the strike missing its target. Instead, it was now the Ambassador who seized the initiative, both hands grasping the others stretched out arm before lifting the mountain of a man over his shoulder, and with a thunderous crash, slamming him into the ground, knocking The Smasher out cold.

The announcer simply stood and watched for a few seconds, dumbfounded, before scrambling to proclaim the result of the match, his voice booming from the speakers once again. "We- ... We have a winner!", the crowd erupting into cheers and clamors, Johann standing in the middle of the ring, taking a few deep breaths before raising his fist into the air.

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Word Count: 1,087
Word Count Total: 3,806
Thread Total: 6,302

Johann lowered his hand, taking one last deep breath before turning to the man to his side who had addressed him once more, and though the man had no intention of fighting again, doubting that anyone else would even rise to the challenge, the host didn't even get to finish his sentence, the Ambassador promptly proven wrong by none other than his date. His head quickly swerved to Amalie as he raised his eyebrows in surprise. Would she be the next challenger? And she would ... challenge him? To something akin to a cage fight?

If that was the case ... this date had just taken a very unexpected direction.

With a somewhat dumbfounded expression, the Ambassador watched speechlessly as Amalie passed his own clothing to the announcer, but not just that. The woman began taking off her own dress, stripping down to what was essentially just underwear. Was she really serious about this?

As exciting and intriguing as a fight with Amalie sounded, his desire to face her in a fight like this was anything but high, especially at this moment, but ... he had made a promise. Today he would do everything she wanted, and that didn't exactly leave him with too much of a choice. If she desired it then he would have to follow. Johann was a man of his word, and valued a promise, after all.

He closed his eyes, sighed, and opened them once again, a stern gaze centered on Amalie, although it was coupled with an admittedly somewhat forced looking smirk. He was certain it was no use trying to deny her now that she'd already gotten this far. She would probably insist, the Ambassador nodding his head in response. "Fine". He shot an expecting look over to the host, who, several articles of clothing in his arms and confusedly trying to follow the events that unfolded around him scrambled to announce the next fight.

"R-right! Looks like we have another challenger! Take your positions!"

Johann turned, walking a couple of paces to bring some space between the two of them before turning around once again, his own eyes seeking those of the Commander, bringing his fists up once again. "Alright then, Amalie. If it is fun that you want ...", the confident smile returned to his face, the anticipation of combat slowly beginning to extinguish doubt and restraint, at least for the moment, "... then show me what you've got".

The announcer's voice echoed from the speakers around them once again, drowning out the cheers of the crowd that slowly grew bigger and bigger as more and more people began to pay attention to the unusual pair of fighters in the ring.

"Alright you two. Same rules as before. Ready? One. Two ... Three! Fight!"

Expectingly, Johann looked over to Amalie, unmoving, observant, waiting for the woman to go on the offensive first, effectively giving her the first attack.

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Word Count: 487
Word Count Total: 4,293
Thread Total: 7,512

Anticipation immediately shifted into a rush of adrenaline when the announcer finished his sentence, the echoing voice still sounding from the speakers when Amalie dashed forward with surprising speed and determination. It seemed like the woman had made her choice and really wouldn't play around. The Ambassador, of course, according to her wishes, would honor her decision and respond in kind. Her movements were quick, efficient, and aimed at finishing the fight quickly. Still, seconds were more than enough for the silver-haired Ambassador to prepare himself, blocking the offensive action aimed at his throat with the back of his arm, a dull, all too familiar pain traveling through the extremity.

Of course, the woman wouldn't stop at that, though, twisting her body on the spot in a feat of what Johann knew was trained agility and flanking his side, preparing for the next attack that followed with the same swiftness, aimed at disrupting his stability and stance. His eyes following every minute motion, the man twisted his torso around, using the momentum of his own motion to swing the opposing leg around and counter her kick with his own, both limbs clashing mid-air with considerable force and a distinct lack of restraint. Immediately, the Ambassador would pull back to create more space between himself and Amalie, recognizing that allowing the other fighter to exploit any openings in his guard from up close was dangerous for not just his balance, but also would eventually allow her to catch him in a blind-spot given that this was a duel fought without the use of magic. If that was the case, it would allow Amalie to land what was effectively a critical blow, which he, of course, sought to counter. Keeping her at range would probably be, in a small twist of irony for the Ambassador, his best chance.

Sidestepping, his body twisted around his own axis, trampled mud following the movement of his foot as he raised his leg, spinning the extremity around before aiming a kick at her shoulder from above, a risky move that could incapacitate her if it struck true, but would leave him wide open if it blocked. Of course, given the circumstances, a little bit of risk would be nothing short of a little fun, right?

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Word Count: 379
Word Count Total: 4,672
Thread Total: 8,274

Johann's eyes narrowed as his foot impacted her arm, his expression stoic and focussed, though his mind, of course, filling with regret. There was nothing he wanted to do less than actually hurt the woman, though she was fighting fiercely, forcing the man to do the same. She had, after all, insisted on a real fight, without holding back, but despite his agreement, the idea didn't sit perfectly well with the Ambassador. As she stumbled back, he would regain his footing, using the momentum of the spin to right himself and straighten back up, raising his fists yet again. Naturally, the attack had been not strong enough to take her out, or even inflict significant damage. Without any magical strength or the Nephilim of war to back him up, Johann von Weiss was just a regular man, if one who somewhat acquainted with martial culture and physically fit. What the Ambassador lacked in raw strength and muscle mass, though, he made up for in sheer agility. There was a reason he had once been called the fastest man in Fiore. Granted, that had been Gangting, and the eccentric self-proclaimed King liked to blow things out of proportion, it seemed, but nonetheless, that didn't mean the silver-haired Rune Mage was to be underestimated.

As if to express the same sentiment, though, Amalie would recover quite quickly, charging forward once again, showing that she, too, was not yet finished. Reflexively, Johann's feet carried him back one, then two steps as he attempted to observe for the incoming attack, realizing that the hefty blow with her elbow would at the very least throw him off balance. Quickly, he would raise his arm, her strike impacting with the dull, echoing sensation of blunt pain surging through his limb. If Joh wasn't who he was, that would've probably left more than just a bruise.

What the man failed to notice, though, was the sudden kick meant to sweep him off his feet, the tunnel vision that had been focussed solely on her upper body now presenting a detriment to him as her foot found purchase and struck true, kicking one of his feet away and momentarily knocking him off-balance, the sudden shift in gravity, naturally, causing him to fall immediately. Johann's reaction, however, was quick. Using one hand to hold himself for just a moment as he hit the ground, he would lift himself onto his side, using all strength that he could bring to bear to swing his body around and try to slam his own legs into hers to, in turn, bring her off balance and force her onto the ground as well.

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Word Count: 440
Word Count Total: 5,112
Thread Total: 9,111

It seemed that both his fall and the improvised move had been clumsy, after all, the silver-haired Ambassador indeed managing to sweep Amalie off her feet, though not without her stumbling and more or less ungracefully falling onto him, the unexpected and sudden impact of a nature Johann had not quite anticipated taking his breath away fro a passing moment. Much to his obvious surprise, Amalie was laughing, apparent amusement changing her expression in a manner somewhat contradictory to the situation they found themselves in, and had found themselves in for the past moments. And yet, when she smiled, Johann couldn't help but smile as well, a genuine chuckle involuntarily overcoming him.

When she conceded, the Ambassador raised both brows, though the smile remained. In a sense, he was rather relieved that this would be the full extent of their little scuffle. It was probably for the best, considering that now there they sat in the cold mud, covered in bruises, dirt, and sweat. What came unexpectedly as well, though, similarly to the end of the duel, was her sudden shift of demeanor, her gentle touch, and her passionate kiss. His eyes widened, though the shock subsided quickly, the kiss reciprocated in kind with a pleasantly surprised smirk. It was quite the abrupt shift, of course, the two fighting one moment and sitting, practically wrapped around each other, in the next, both the announcer and the crowd quieting down in an instant, silence taking the makeshift arena.

Yet, Amalie managed to surprise him further still, her request causing the man to smirk sheepishly. Naturally, the man was still technically obligated to follow her every whim, as per the conditions of their bet, and while his mind had trailed to other, more acutely relevant matters, he hadn't forgotten it. A promise was a promise. Not that Johann was especially against the idea, either. The Ambassador would thus lean in closely, a breathy whisper meant only for her ears leaving his lips, "Your wish is my command". With these same words, he would wrap his arms around her, lifting her up as he stood up, shooting a quick glance that wandered over the crowd and the host. He couldn't care less about all of them in this moment, though. With a shrug and another chuckle, both the Ambassador and the Commander would seemingly blink out of existence, vanishing in a small flash of magical energy, leaving behind a perplexed crowd and a dumbfounded announcer, who, as it stood, still clutched the clothing they had left behind.

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Word Count: 424
Word Count Total: 5,536
Thread Total: 9,906

"Not good. I ... feel sick", a strained voice replied in through labored breathing, which was followed by a cough. Johann stared down at the handkerchief in his hands, strains of red tarnishing previous spotlessness of the white cloth in his grasp, his eyes narrowing. Was the excursion into the Neutral Grounds making things worse? He knew that his magic normally wouldn't be affected by reality-bending effects like that of this peculiar zone in the middle of Fiore, where magic was supposed to be confined to a state of inexistence indeed, but in his current health, the kind of magic he normally wielded effortlessly was no longer a given factor. He could no longer bend the space around him, no longer interact with the world and reality the same way he had done before, and so, he felt his power, the power of the Second Seal inside of him, dull. Not by much, but enough to worsen his state. He supposed that the incredible healing factor Mars provided this vessel with was the one thing that had even kept him alive this long, and even now it was fighting a constant battle against the venom that was circulating in his system. Normally, this peculiar body he shared with the Nephilim would take care of such unnatural toxins and neutralize them in a matter of moments, with ease, even, but this? It had to be an especially vile, corrosive, and as Johann saw it, evil concoction that the dark mage had afflicted him with.

It had been a short while since the Ambassador had been poisoned, a few days at most, but it was hard to keep track in his state, admittedly. The world around the man would fade in and out of view at random, his vision blurring and distorting involuntarily. Breathing was difficult, and when the man did manage to take a few strained breaths, they would be shallow, occasionally interrupted by heavy fits of coughing. The poison was eating away at his insides at a nigh constant, rapidly deteriorating his form that, without the Second Seal, would undoubtedly already have succumbed to it. The throbbing headache and the paralyzing pain in his joints were not the worst part of his physical ailments, though. The bandages tightly wrapped around his chest made this much very overtly clear, spots of blood in various states of freshness covering the wound above his heart. It was where the girl had struck, which, of course, didn't exactly aid his situation. His body probably could've handled the poison without these kinds of consequences if the source of Mars' power hadn't been struck and subsequently afflicted first, the crystalline Lacrima heart in his chest pulsing only weakly, but diligently doing its best to continue keeping their vessel alive.

To think that he could be brought to submission this easily, with a single of a poisoned dragon claw. Perhaps, Johann had wondered a lot over these past few days, he had grown arrogant, comfortable in his belief in a power that he had learned was nothing more than borrowed and anything but his own. His goal had always been the perfection of the self, discipline in all manner of life, but it felt like he, too, had grown decadent and stopped striving. He didn't believe that he had, but this situation would cast a shadow of doubt onto his confidence in his abilities. He had previously believed that, through sheer force of conviction alone, any and all obstacles could be overcome, but the raw, agonizing truth of reality now brought to the surface had proven him wrong. Power did not care for conviction, ideology, ideals, or noble goals. Power held no allegiance. It was a harsh fact to admit for the silver-haired man, that power was not on the side of the righteous in principle, but he had been forced to realize it, realize that two things were inevitably correct: He, the God of Justice, one of the supposedly strongest mages in all of Earthland, had been struck down like it had been nothing, which led to his second realization, that he, Johann von Weiss, had not been strong enough, that he had not yet reached his peak. Perhaps the humiliating loss would serve to ground him, if nothing else, lest he'd become too full of himself. He scoffed internally. Perhaps this was fate's way of knocking him down a peck. No, he refused to believe in a concept such as fate, given that it implied that he had no control over the outcome of his life. Still, that would mean he had no one to blame but himself, and he accepted that fact. He had simply been too weak to come out on top.

Well, he could blame himself, but ultimately, the dark mage woman bore half the fault, as well. The woman, Johann had never learned her name, but he remembered her face and features clearly, as if the image had been burned into his mind in a moment of rage and desire for vengeance, had taught him valuable lessons. He had underestimated her, and that had been the reason why he had lost. He had granted mercy to a defeated foe, and that was why he had lost. He had been too weak to resist her attack, and that was why he had lost. He felt anger stir inside his chest, swiftly rising to his throat, but another fit of coughing was swift to put an end to the onset of turbulent emotions. He would repeat his own thoughts to calm his mind and ease his agitation, over and over again, and whenever he felt the sickness threaten to overwhelm him, his cold, though unseen rage serving to keep him sane in this instance: He would heal, and then, he would have his revenge. With everything he had to give, he would take back what was rightfully his, and he would exact vengeance.

For the time being, though, such daydreams were nothing more than that. He could barely stand on his own, let alone fight with any degree of efficiency approaching his regular self. The Ambassador knew that he had to focus on getting better first, which was why he had agreed to venture here in the first place, despite his state. The earlier he could rid himself of this venom, the earlier things could resume back to normal. He would let his gaze wander over the inside of their carriage with half-closed, weak eyes, too distracted with his own illness to notice the change that had befallen the other person beside him. He had mixed feelings about the Commander's presence. In truth, he was quite grateful that Amalie would undertake this search for a cure to his state with him, but he also found himself conscious of the fact that, how he was holding himself right now, he was not exactly much of a help to her, and indeed, presented more of a troublesome responsibility that needed constant attention and care. He hated the fact that he was helpless. A strained voice would speak up once more, sickly words, with some effort, forming a somewhat consistent sentence. "I'm ... sorry that I am ... ahhh ... that I am such a burden to you ... at the moment". He didn't know what else to say to her, it wasn't like there was much more he could say, either way, another cough cutting him off. He hoped, with as much optimism as he allowed himself to spare, that the cure to this ill would be found quickly.

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Word Count: 1,264
Word Count Total: 6,800
Thread Total: 12,075