The Open Challenge - Genrandt vs ???

In the vast multi-verse that exists as all Creation, Nolthanis has met and beaten entities otherwise considered unstoppable. ‘Tis is his nature as a former Destroyer, the capability to adapt and overcome unrivaled save for four people he’s met so far: Forzu, Morgoth, Kaneda, and Rio. Even-so, that does not make any of the five weaker than the other, but rather a rivalry of sorts - - at least in the Frozen Emperor’s opinion. Thus, he rarely feels any particular need to seek out a fight for his own satiation - - usually pulled into battle by some random need of those he cares for or the desire to try and best him by ‘rivals’ he doesn’t even know of.

“Peaceful day so far,” he says to Svell, giving the side of her face an affectionate pet when she leans her head against him.

Silence reigns from thereon while he stares into the clear skies from his balcony, clad in his uniform for BLADE whilst wearing Kascada on his left hip in its katan form; a total length from tip to pommel of five-and-a-half feet. His navy locks are shorter now, but not by much, as a means to better present himself during important political events. And his eyes, that which are a usual dull gold, are vibrant with power he had lost for a time. Now at peak strength once more, he would instill fear into any enemies whom would dare oppose his new family; it doesn’t matter if they were former or current members.

Just then, an undead servant rushes into his room, carrying with it a recorder of special design, for in Nolthanis’s presence technology doesn’t entirely work if at all in the first place.

“My Lord, a distress signal has been sent by a station allied to BLADE! Captain Rio insists you investigate!” The rugged, dying voice of the Banshee makes Nolthanis sigh.

“Alright. Be back soon, Svell.”

With a wave of his hand, the space before him distorts and rips open with an unholy screech. He steps onto the edge of his balcony and off into the portal, but not before calling his Gran-Zamber Great Blade into his left hand. The weapon itself is seven feet in length from tip to pommel, starting out three feet in width from the guard and shrinking down to a foot in width at the very tip. Massive as a weapon, the six-foot, five inch tall undead himself seems unable to properly wield it. However, that is a ruse, and he can swing it with the same each as he can Kascada. For this one time only he wants to use Gran-Zamber in its natural form, to get a feel for it and see what it can do before he customizes it.

“Tsk, ruining my days,” he mutters mid-travel.

When he arrives on the cold flooring, his boots echo for some distance. He can immediate feel a lifeforce so distance away, and it’s similar, to which he narrows his eyes. This cannot be a coincidence, but perhaps Rio sent them both because the situation is that die?

Thus, when he arrives, Nolthanis simply survey the Command Bridge before laying his cold, calculating gaze on Senso.

“You shouldn’t be alive, last I heard. Explain what’s going on here,” he demands.

As usual with his presence, the temperature rapidly drops. He hefts the double-edged Gran-Zamber on his left shoulder, but it does not cut through his clothing given their minor enchantments. Otherwise he remains still, waiting patiently for an explanation.

“I was here under order of Kaned-“

The look of doubt on Nolthanis’s face says it all, but the hesitation sealed the deal for poor Senso.

“Do you take me for a fool,” he asks the young man, his golden eyes flaring with luminescence - - power unseen within him awakening.

The temperature’s drop continues at an accelerated rate, whatever shuts down machine-wise as a result is only to be expected. As the physical embodiment of Winter itself, technology – unless it’s a certain type – cannot function properly, if at all, within his presence alone. Were he to cast a spell right now, perhaps this entire section of the station would go out - - likely never to recover its proper functions. And while that’s true, how is he able to wield the Granz-Zamber? Simply because of an enchantment to protect its functions and existence can it exist within his grip. After this field-testing Nolthanis will know how to modify it for his exact use.

The second excuse doesn’t even get to finish before Nolthanis speaks, lowering the Granz-Zamber to his side from his shoulder, “Cut the shit, I’m not an idiot. Your lying just got you into trouble. Now come with me or–!?”

The existence of an energy field – originating from Senso – pretty much told Nolthanis everything he needed to know. He was originally just going to arrest the lad and take him in, but to bare one’s fangs against the Frozen Emperor is – quite literally – inviting Death onto the field. A deep, disappointed sigh escapes him from that moment. Unbeknownst to him, the Destroyer of the Old Gods? Nolthanis has been molding Ether since before Senso was a twinkle in the Creation’s plan, his ability to see, sense, and affect Ether unparalleled save for a select few.

“So, I guess this is happening.”

As for that previous booming voice? It has no effect for Nolthanis has no desire to close the gap past when he rift-traveled onto the station. He merely rolls his eyes, his Primordial Essence prepared to devour at any lingering energies within the bellow should there be any present. He’s done that too much and seen it too much to fall to such a ploy if it is utilized.

“I guess so,” he confirms, his voice lacking any sort of emotion. Delving deep into the recesses of his mind, the Destroyer awakens to deal with this matter swiftly.

Senso comes, but his speed is not something Nolthanis is overly concerned by. Pushing from his very pores is the manipulation of his essence, creating an outlining ‘second skin’ that would protect him should Senso try to use that field to his advantage. With that defense in play, Nolthanis awaits the coming strike. His left . . . Hand? What an odd target, especially considering it’s a lance being used; they’re a clunky weapon in his opinion, not particularly great at cutting things off.

“How dull,” he declares in the midst of a movement.

A blur of blue, silver, and black erupts in front of Senso. Granz-Zamber is bought forth with enough speed to render it a flash - - reflecting the dim rays of light off its surface straight into Senso’s face. Not just that, but his swing of the massive blade cut apart the very air around it, displacing it temporarily while he seeks to stop the madman before he could really even get a chance to pull off whatever combo-attack he’s clearly going for. However, it would seem his junior warrior has at least grown-up a little, having somehow positioned his lance in a way to defend himself in the event of a counter. What Senso would not expect, however, is the sheer stupid level of Nolthanis’s physical strength. The timing of his strike is to hit against the lance in such a way that it would force the lance back, against Senso, and send the other away through several layers of reinforced steel and potentially some bulkheads. The sad part is that it isn’t even half of what Nolthanis’s actual strength is like.

“I’m afraid I really don’t have the patience for this. Come quietly or die, it makes little difference.”

Even as Nolthanis makes the statement he’s embedding Granz-Zamber into the flooring, the groaning of freezing metal drowning out all other noise for a moment. In the moment directly after he’s taking off his BLADE uniform, at least down to the pants, exposing flawless flesh save an ebony tattoo starting from his left shoulder. The uniform is put away within some sort of pocket dimension after he reaches into his right pocket, pulling out a storage ring he has and putting it over his right middle-finger.

“To think you would lie to me. Did you not learn anything during our initial meeting in Dagda Mor? Then again, at that stage, even you might’ve posed a small threat; it’s only natural you think yourself big enough even now.”

The tattoo is the symbol of both his status as a Destroyer and the origin-point of his Curse. It has no special title that alludes to what it does, nor has anyone in BLADE seen it yet. However, if this were in the original Dagda Mor? Even the Black Heart and Thessalonian Tyrant would know it’s meaning.

He plans to take devour Senso.

Were he to give it a proper name, Nolthanis would name it the Curse of Hunger. For simplicity’s sake, his Hunger is something unique, allowing him to consume and evolve off of whatever unfortunate soul happens to be his target. It is a rare power to be employed, but not because of something silly like not finding anyone worthy to use it on. Every use of the Curse, fueling his Hunger, undoes yet another shackle on his latent capabilities as a Destroyer - - and it likewise puts him at risk of losing his mind again.

Effectively, this ability is double-edged. While it’s meant for gaining power, he can become an enemy to even those most-dear if he’s unprepared. Rio once experienced what happens when Nolthanis relapses, and with full power restored? Well, one would have an hard time imagining just what can happen. However, considering the fact that no one other than he from BLADE will be here, he holds no fear in using it.

Quite frankly, he’s learned to use it as a means to stop the infighting between his Essence and the Symbiote dwelling within him. They both fear the Hunger. Thus, it keeps harmony within his body, and prevents the possibility of his own powers backfiring on him - - or not activating at all.

Picking up Granz-Zamber again in his left hand, Nolthanis makes his way towards Senso with the weapon once more on his left shoulder. It isn’t that Granz-Zamber is dull or anything, but Nolthanis’s body is just insanely difficult to wound to start with; one of the perks of being Winter’s champion. He doesn’t even bother to duck or move out of the way of anything that might be broken, the sheer ignorance his body has for physical obstructions obvious as any jagged piece of metal just snaps off after pressing into him for too long.

“Show me something worth devouring.”

In that single uttered desire, the tattoo that stretching down the majority of his left arm, side, back, and chest slithers around a little.

To blindly believe in one strategy one must have two factors in their favor. The first is an overwhelming confidence in themselves, second more-or-less the same thing: overwhelming power. It is with unstoppable power that allows one to overrun otherwise impenetrable defenses - - to kill supposed Gods. It is why he doesn’t particularly bother with the nonsense of gathering a multitude of powers like everyone else. Originally Nolthanis only held dominion over ice and water, as well as his Lustbader, and look at where he is now. Sure, one can count the Essence as a key factor, but it is within limited resources that he found his ability to be ingenuitive.

It is with this ingenuity that he finds himself as an apex predator, fingers clasping Granz-Zamber tightening just somewhat he takes in Senso’s fallen figure. Does the lad believe Nolthanis can’t notice the change in his energies’ flow? Rolling his eyes, Nolthanis steps through a broken wall before bringing his new weapon down one again.

“Wake up already, I didn’t bring you out to look nice,” he demands, Granz-Zamber’s frame violently shaking in reaction.

Despite knowing of the electricity he does not try to stop it, nor does he halt in his approach. Why? Well, to be quite honest, while electricity in of itself is a problem he doesn’t really view it as a threat. Sure, he has to be prepared for it, but it would take a significant voltage for him to feel threatened; and that goes for anything really. His sense of self-preservation kind of went out of the window the moment he became Winter’s champion. It’s nearly costed him before, so he does take it easier, but there are times where his apathy just makes it impossible to care. For him, taking a hit in order to kill someone is always a good trade.

Which is why when his body is caught in the trap, he doesn’t display any emotion about it. He simply looks onward, monitoring Senso until the child escapes his field of view. From behind? Smart, but it wouldn’t work. Nolthanis is an Undead, rendering all sorts of conventional means of subjugation outright pointless. While paralysis itself isn’t something he’s immune to – as it isn’t a status condition he usually encounters – it doesn’t hold him for nearly as long as Senso would expect.

“Pointless.”

In the last moment possible Nolthans whirls around, right hand extended to catch the Hellfire-covered lance with a rather loud boom echoing out. The Hellfire itself is not a threat, for again, he is an undead; such an ability wouldn’t really harm him too much. Then again, with it snuffed out completely given proximity to the Frozen Emperor, is there any real need to comment further? Unless Senso plans to teleport his lance back to him, the call of his weapon will not be heeded. Why? Nolthanis’s grip is nothing particularly special, but it doesn’t have to be, because he possesses the ability to manipulate weaponry. The only reason he decided to catch it is because the energy from Senso would stop his ability to halt the lance midair.

“Watch your last vestiges of hope be crushed.”

And he would do literally just that, curling his fingers inward to crush the lance’s tip before his dominion over weaponry took effect. The lance, once legendary and perhaps a problem to others, would be reduced to no more than a ball of scrap material. Tossing the remains back to Senso, provided the madman did not charge, Nolthanis lets out a small chuckle - - finally some emotion.

“I guess I can finally hit back, right?”

Temperatures still dropping and Granz-Zamber still shaking, Nolthanis lowers his center of gravity while still looking at the ex-BLADE member.

Third Blade Art: Terra Destruction.

Taught to him by the First-Born, Nolthanis’s understanding and compatibility with the Blade Arts is nearly second-to-none. With a mighty flex of muscles within his legs, he launches himself up into the air above Senso. Gripped now with two hands, Granz-Zamber is brought over his head before the singular blade opens to emit the Curse’s power - - acting a conduit. It envelops the weapon and Nolthanis as a result, painting something seen – perhaps – in a terror-based novel.

Pushed by the frigid airs, he begins a descent akin to a meteor’s. With his descent comes a rapid rotation, turning him effectively into a sawblade that could not be halted with brute strength alone. And without his lance, what would Senso do on short notice? The force of the Blade Art itself is insane, coupled not only with Nolthanis’s freakish strength, but also the added momentum from the spinning, would pretty much cause an overall collapse of the current floor they’re on. Below them is an even larger room, perhaps a hangar bay of some sort or even storage? Doesn’t matter.

With debris of various sizes and from several different things falling around them, how might the liar handle this development? As for Nolthanis, he will simply fall onto the floor with a deafening thud, causing a small indent in the metal. For anything that happened fall onto him, it would simply just disintegrate upon coming into contact with the dull-gold energy that is the Hunger’s manifestation.

“Is he dead? Can’t be that simple.”

Nolthanis simply stares onward as the blasts hurdle towards him. While he would not try to disrupt their intents, luring Senso into a false sense of security, he did let another show of emotion show: a small smile. Fingers slowly tighten around the grip of Granz-Zamber, Nolthanis’s eyes beginning to shimmer with the incandescence of some unspoken jest - - a joke only the Frozen Emperor knew. With a few swipes he shields himself against the kinetic waves, allowing the brunt to be caught on the devouring edge of the energy emitting from Granz-Zamber. It isn’t to say his Essence devoured the kinetic blasts, though it rightly could. It just meant he was using the energies of his unique existence to prevent damage to himself. As for why he didn’t devour the attacks? Does a wolf concern itself with devouring what won’t sustain it? The kinetic blasts were weak, despite their tonnes-heavy weight; Nolthanis could lift that much while asleep! If he could sleep that is.

“I see what you’re doing, why you’re so cowardly.” Nolthanis’s voice drips with a mocking tone. “I will give you a chance to prove your worth.”

All the energy that surrounded him, that swells within, suddenly stored itself all away within Granz-Zamber, and Nolthanis flung it behind him with a small show of force. The sound of metal screeching as the empowered blade pierced flooring off in the darkness was all the sound remaining, until the clunking of his boots resumes. Powerless, Nolthanis rose his arms up and out to his sides, presenting a target too hard to ignore. There would be no tricks, no ploys, and no weapon-summoning from Nolthanis. It would be the one chance Senso has at getting in close without fear of being devoured by the Essence.

“You pride yourself on your physical ability, yes?” With his tattooed hand he taps at the point where the heart of a human would be, silently painting a target. “Then show me. Take your time, Senso. Wouldn’t want you to cry about being unprepared, now would we?”

Despite not powering up himself, Granz-Zamber did; feeding the Essence with the power of the slaughtered.