Garden Of The Abyss

Galaggher propelled forward with his aquatic-enhanced blade in hand before leaping into the air. Rearing the blade back, the spiraling water amplified further as lines of the azure essence were woven through the air.

"Graaaagh---!"

Finally swinging his sword that carried with it the might of such heavy, abundant water, Galaggher yelled out as the slash swung forth in the form of malicious, tidal fury--aiming down at the stationary Baldrean below.

However, such an attack was:

"Foolish."

--Spilling from Bakar's taut lips, the single utterance was overshadowed by the deafening sound of sizzling baking into the arena.

Having collided with the storm of flames that housed itself near the elder Baldrean, the mighty aqua was reduced to nothing but steam when greeting the wall of inferno. There was zero effect from Galaggher's attempted attack; in fact, it seemed the flames grew stronger--roaring out, cackling as if the water supplemented its burning rage.

"So...that's how it is, is it?"

Galaggher whispered as he witnessed his clear azure be reduced to naught but steam, landing back down on his feet.

It is unforeseen for water-born of high-level magic to be reduced so easily by fire--it means that man is indeed at the pinnacle of flame magic. That narrows things down quite a bit...now I know who you are, Galaggher thought.

"Bakar is your name, is it? In Mastorn, you're remembered as the "Dread of Ambazhu"; at least to knights, that is. Your name was eradicated from history; it seems even as a wrinkled pile of bones...you're still a monstrous bastard. You were like a camp-side story; rumors of a Baldrean ghost who reduced soldiers to piles of ash...it was quite frightening. How many did you incinerate? Hundreds? Thousands? I'm not judging--it's fair game after all; your people were eradicated."

Galaggher smiled as he discerned the identity of his opponent, looking directly into Bakar's sunken, but unmoving eyes.

"..."

Remaining as few of words as ever, Bakar simply continued to stare at the knight as his offensive shield of flames continued to spiral around him. That silence only served as confirmation for the hazel-haired knight who laughed to himself, plunging his sword into the sand as he looked at Bakar.

"Still...it seems age has eroded even you, Dread of Ambazhu. If you truly did hold onto that ghastly title, you would've attempted to turn me to cinder by now. You're trying to win simply by exhausting me with this heat, aren't you? What a saint you are, Bakar!"

As he spoke, Galaggher retrieved his blade from the holds of the coarse sand and began to walk forward as the air that carried such heat forward pelted against his armor.

"I know you still have that devil buried within you, Dread of Ambazhu; show it to me! If they want a show, let's give it to them!"

Galaggher's words echoed through the arena as he waved his hand as if guiding the spectators along, reeling in roars from the excited audience as Bakar stood silently within his cone of towering flames.

"Child, why are you so eager to bathe in such violence?...You hardly seem old enough to have lived through that horrid war--so why do you cling to this hatred?"

​ Hearing these words fall from the quiet lips of Bakar, the knight stopped in his approach as his smiling expression faded.

"...Hatred? Is that what you think this is? I have no such feelings towards you, Bakar. All I know about the war--no, the massacre--is from hearsay. I simply believe the easiest route to victory is through mutual distaste; no feelings of mercy should dull our hearts. However, let me correct you on something you've mistakenly found yourself believing: I am more than old enough to have lived through that war."

Galaggher's words were spoken with such certainty, but they still raised suspicion from the veteran warrior who raised his bushy eyebrows at this information.

"So you simply wish to antagonize me to leave little room for doubt in your heart? Nonsense. Childish. It is despicable to try and seat yourself in the light when your heart only wants darkness. If you're going to commit to such malice, then don't play pretend with me. I know very well a killer when I see one; you have those same eyes--buried in them are the many lives you've taken, knight of Mastorn. If it's a fight to the death you wish for, I shall indulge."

Bakar spoke hoarsely with his tone that left no room for hesitance; Galaggher could full-well understand that the words spilling from his foe's lips were serious.

Accepting this invitation, the knight swooped into battle once more--dashing in circles around Bakar as to avoid the reach of his bright, burning flames.

"I must admit, this fire of yours is certainly annoying."

Galaggher muttered before attempting to dash in from Bakar's blind spot; aiming the tip of his blade towards the back of the old man, the knight's assault was intervened once more by flames. Shooting towards him viscously, these roaring flames crashed against the nearest wall as Galaggher avoided their reach by flipping through the air like an olympic gymnast.

I'd like to limit the hand I show, but I suppose revealing one card is inevitable, Galaggher thought.

Looking upon the shield of flames that encircled Bakar, the knight held a calm expression upon his fair face as he wiped away the sweat that coalesced at his chin.

"IT SEEMS NO MATTER WHAT ANGLE GALAGGHER TRIES, HE CAN'T PENETRATE BAKAR'S FIERY DEFENSE!"

Asmodeus' commentary brought a small rise to the crowd before the booming yells fell to a still in the presence of both combatants' stillness.

"If you shall buzz around me like a fly, I will take it upon myself to squash you."

Bakar promised with a quiet malice to his voice; a rise in the heat of his flames was felt by the knight who attempted to hide behind the growing storm of flames behind his own wide blade.

"...It seems there is still some fire left burning in that wrinkly, old shell of yours."

Seeming almost pleased by this development, the knight smiled as he swung his heavy blade, parting the crimson winds that grew abundant with the innate strength cultivated by the knight.

I'm starting to understand, Dread of Ambazhu; you aren't standing still out of arrogance, Galaggher thought.

As the storm of flames grew in strength, the knight drew a heavy breath as sweat escaped his pores, looking at the statuesque elder.

Your body is aged, indeed; you can't handle the strain of wind and fire magic in unison--you must stand still to be able to properly utilize it. Your bluff has failed, Dread of Ambazhu, the knight thought.

Even knowing this, the path to victory didn't unravel itself; unmoving as he was, Bakar was shrouded in such dense, blazing weather that attacking him was easier said than done.

Bakar didn't take his stationary position as simply stagnation, however, as he raised his hand, calling the flames he manifested to coalesce in front of his wrinkly, scarred palm with a blinding array of burning crimson.

"If you're so eager to die, I will meet your request!"

Thrown forth, the condensed flames roared out as it scattered the sand in its path--hurling towards the knight who smiled at the challenge. Around the orb of burning malice, the air contorted painfully as if being gripped by the palms of a crimson devil.

As he drew a breath to prepare for his counterattack, it became clear to the knight the type of detriments the territory of flames held on him; each breath was laced with small embers that invaded his lungs, weakening his body as it became embraced in a malicious, draining heat.

"...Ngh…!"

Galaggher persevered through the environment that sought to degrade his stamina, swinging his hefty blade directly against the sphere of hissing flames. Noticing a shine that manifested in the center of the crimson orb, Galaggher paused in that transic moment.

You sly, old fool, he thought.

Bursting with a volatile reaction, the flaming ball launched by the elderly man released a nova of flames directly before the knight in shining armor.

"Did he…?"

Aiko muttered anxiously, almost not wanting to confirm what happened in the mix of battle. As a result of the explosion, flames danced in the small territory where the knight had stood, obscuring the vision of the onlookers.

Though the still hearts of the spectators were relieved by a familiar voice.

"A valiant effort."

--Calling out with his boisterous voice, Galaggher swung his blade to part the flames that clung both to the sand and air, revealing not a single scratch inlaid on his form.

"..."

Bakar remained silent, though his aged eyes packed with wisdom narrowed on the knight as if trying to decipher the reason for his form free of damage. There was nothing that stood out; embers simply danced around the man's inscribed armor without leaving a singular blemish on its pristine form.

"IS HE TRULY INVINCIBLE? JUST WHAT IS THIS KNIGHT MADE OUT OF!?"

The announcer voiced exactly the same thoughts flooding through the spectators' head at the sight of the smiling, tall-standing man dressed in such gallant armor.

"If you're curious as to what I did--too bad."

Galaggher's taunts had no effect on the gaze of the old competitor, who stood there silently, bathing in his wild, yet refined flames.

I don't despise you, knight of Mastorn. It was a war; I slaughtered many Mastornians--sometimes I did it to protect my village, and other times--I simply did it because at the time....I wanted nothing more than to listen to the screams of those who sought to massacre my people, Bakar thought.