Ysthomeil vs. Adell

The sun-kissed colossus descended upon the world with eyes of hubris.

Across oceans and through mountains did the scholar wander in vagrancy since always or perhaps never. The fable of the dragons was lost here as was evident by those he crossed along the way. For ages he traveled with no apparent destination by foot, one step of crisp lacquered moccasins after another—without stopping a single time. It was only when he had arrived to the “Glittering Planes” that the context of his journey took form. His expedition brought him to the fell wood riddled with secrets and omens forlorn. The behemoth of a man, eight feet and four inches tall, stared into its heart with astral eyes. The precepts spoke nothing of the future to be, for once the Apocrypha or Yzark and Isilikander both had failed, which only possibly meant one thing.

This was the inevitable turning point in this generation of years he had grown weary of indulging.

In a flash of divinity warm light wrapped the white robed scholar in its embrace and he vanished. To where? Far deep within the woods where he felt the presence that had drawn him here across realms.

Thus the God Dragon appeared before the swordsman.

The robes burned away in the ephemeral light revealing a fine cut cashmere suit, ivory as was his hair, in stark contrast to his bronze flesh and universal eyes. His face was young, and his cheek bones high, giving a youthful gaze about him in contradiction to his virtue. His eyebrows were thick like that of a monkey, and his lips full and healthy—which inevitably matched the size of the leviathan who had appeared before him.
Along his left wrist was a golden watch, and to his name there appeared to be no armaments: atleast initially.

There were two present, his watch and it’s technological functions provided by 4Archon coding and The Technocrats evolutionary handiwork: and the God Fears themselves. Anshin The Eternal Dragon bore The Judge and by his own hand he summoned Ergheiz: The Warrior. Within the golden bracers lining his massive forearms was a fire that could not be extinguished, so powerful that even the ill of the forest was burned away by its phenomenon. Fingers and knuckles alike covered, he tightened both fists and released them to affirm his grip, standing approximately twenty meters away from his fated opponent. His shoulders rolled themselves forward and his black tie loosened against his magenta undershirt pressed firmly against the massive man’s peerless musculature.

Thus the paragon had appeared before he of renown. Would he answer the silent bell?

Perhaps not. So Adell would ring it loud.

“It’s time I bury you, old man…” he sneered with ardor. The God of Dragons, King of Illiandes was here.

With universal eyes The God Dragon watched the world closely. Yangan [The Soul’s Eye] afforded him a perfect understanding of his surroundings down to the intricacies of the arcane. Earning his title as The God of the Battlefield only by remaining aware even through his cloudy arrogance would he be able to assure his own victory. Forcing the hundreds of conventional and non-conventional senses open had killed many of the past seeking to turn their body into that of a murderous dragon, but it was a fundamental technique Adell Illiandes Laemington had long since mastered.

It was true that his presence contradicted that of the forest within the glittering planes. The truth was that while he stood in the forest not far from his opponent— that his existence was far more complicated. The Polydimensional Seals forged by the hands of The Red Magister gave him sovereignty over self and allowed him to split himself across several dimensional boundaries simultaneously by virtue of exotic ether manipulation. This meant he was usually not all in one place at once, and hence could avoid the typical laws afforded by area of influences or otherwise conceptual boundary distortions found in the material around him.

Which was in-fact the case. While the world around him reeled and churned with malignant sorcery, The True Rune of Fire seemed particularly connected to the darkness given off by the forest— or perhaps the unexplainable connection between it and the virtue of Ysthomeil afforded. Rather than allow it to grow like a cancer through the beautiful plains beyond, an astral fire began to churn within the heart of the dragon’s left hand. The inferno became unnaturally dense, contained only by the ancient signeturgy that was The True Rune of Fire able to increase the output and density of the mythical flame by sheer will. Within the rune itself the power gyrated, eating what little residual ether rest in the air about him. The dominion that surrounded him was at risk of a wildfire unlike any other.

Then suddenly Ysthomeil acted, commanding simple magic to propel his sword forward by its edge towards Adell’s center.

“They ignore their maker.”

“My makers are my slaves now…”

Adell Illiandes Laemington was already gone when those words flowed through everything and nothing at once. Atleast for that moment. An enigmatic blur of ivory and gold brought with it the consequence of action—rending the earth beneath his feet and sending shockwaves of tumultuous force shooting into every which direction. Invoking a sonic boom of concussive force, The Dragon’s Gate manifested itself within him, guided only by Adell’s instincts, but still dormant.

Baijuli [The Art of Penetration] caused more havoc than one might expect. Without energy based assistance Adell found himself effortlessly able to invoke the N-wave and rip through powerful physical and spiritual constructs with ease of strength. This was the absurd physiology afforded to he without the flexibility of free magic manipulation and environmental manipulation. The sheer strength could tear his own limbs and body apart were it not for his thousands of years worth of training. Able to manipulate both the physical direction and the density and scope of area effected, he chose a three-hundred and sixty degree dome of pressurized concussive force for his movement— and that alone was able to offset the blade moving forward.

The God Dragon’s sheer velocity and power were intricate linked. Adell Laemington was not agile, nor was he physically or magically invulnerable without his wit and cunning: instead he was incredibly powerful, which equates to an otherwise asinine velocity. Able to generate the power to move forward at virtually any speed he desired, this didn’t come without weaknesses, much like the ivory-haired scholar himself. The distance between the two vaporized with Adell’s sudden movement when the sword reached a third of the way to his center, and in the next immediate moment, the spell binding the blade to wielder was assaulted when the gauntleted right hand tapped its side just barely. Outpacing even his own shockwave, his right hand struck the side of the blade and the shockwave followed

The Ergheiz’ sole purpose was the break down and absorption of mystical phenomena afforded by way of the arcane. This was the power of his God Fear, The Destroyer, able to burn through and turn all into intense ether for it utilize in its gyrating phenomenon engine. This meant the slight contact with the blade, however minuscule, likely disconnected it from its wielder, and require reconnected for him to utilize.

This was, of course, after it was sent careening into the sky with the shockwave that carried it far into the sky and through the clouds.

In such a minuscule frame of time much had happened. The flames of the True Runehad become self-award, The Dragon’s Gate had come to manifest quietly, shockwaves had been released to physically rend any which met the gyrating waves path, and the martial-artist himself had vaulted forward, his upper body leaning into his head first movement.

Then with a cocked back left hand he swung his fist forward, the blinding gold burning though the crisp air in a flash of ethereal brilliance— aiming the center of his knuckles towards the center of Ysthomeil’s own body, seeking to punch through him with the power of his running head start and his naturally peerless strength. He may have lacked the magical prowess and agility of his opponent among other things, but his strength was absolute, and taking such a blow would have ramifications to just how long this “maker” could keep it up.

“Now join the rest.”