Future of Calamity [Under Rewrite]

Chapter 7 - Praetor

Oscar's will blazed forth as he charged, his sword crossed before him; a sign of his undying faith towards the Abbey. The wind was furiously displaced, and the storm of raindrops retreated as his force catapulted him towards the devilish criminals. Like a bullet train of steel and mettle, he crossed the open dock in a second, his figure gracing the prisoner's space as he appeared in burst of moist air. Immediately, his blessed weapon graced nature's force, splitting the growing wind and water as he cut right through where the daemon woman had been before his eyes. Oscar didn't spare a glance at the surprised malak at his side, only meeting the withering gaze of Death's Mistress who had leapt far above him; gleaming wrist blade shooting out to spill more fresh blood.

Velvet landed in a mass of darkness, a sharp glare piercing the exorcist as he pranced forward, sword positioned in silent prayer, before the opponents met in a gnashing of thirsty steel. Sparks flew as they exchanged blows; the daemon leaping around in wild spins and pounces - her metal talon striking incessantly against the praetor's iron guard. Oscar held his weapon protectively, unyielding of any ground as he struck the woman's violent edge away from any blind spots in practiced precision. Velvet's anguished cries rang out in the deafening storm, rattling the opposing exorcist group as they held back the mysterious half-malak.

Boring through beads of glistening rain and ignoring the sharp stench of the sea, she coldly calculated her next move, the daemon steeling her form and flexing her foot; as a hidden blade shot out from the boot's underside. Oscar barely flinched at the unorthodox wild card, as the daemon sprang back into vicious action. A feral wheel of devastation occurred, as the ravenette's already powerful kicks lashed out with now lethal capability. Still, Oscar ceased to unveil any alternate moves, as the increased offensive efficiency began to carve into his guard, pushing him across the soaked docks.

It was like a hungry predator pounding against a beaten wall, dishing out immense power against its battered surface, but it did not fall.

Loudly growling in irritation, Velvet struck out with a rage-fueled kick, the metal screeching across the praetor's unblemished blade, as he recoiled backwards. However, he did not falter, and carried his momentum into a sudden strike; aiming his sword's tip precisely to gouge the daemon before him. Sighting the soaring blade, Velvet fell back and caught herself with her left hand, digging her fingers into the chilling stone - her boot blade rising up to grind against the stabbing blade - throwing it off course.

Squelch!

The horrendous appendage exploded out from its cloth chains, wreathed in vile crimson as it almost snarled at the foe. Switching from one hand to the other, the daemoness roared as she aimed to thrash the boy with a sickening smack. Until, he vanished. His speed was unbelievable, as Oscar had managed to leap back in the blink of an eye. All she managed to catch was a handful of liquid pellets, and the crackling of electricity exposed her mistake. Oscar stood behind her stunned form, orbs manifested with blinding arcs of lightning hovering above his faithful weapon. Eyes of hardened gold widened in shock, before she whipped around to protect her form with the vermillion limb. Blunt shocks of pain coursed around her system as the orbs struck out suddenly, one jumping right into her claw, one more knocking it away, and the final sending her barrelling into the icy depths off the dock.

Crash!

The cold grip of the ocean latched onto her upon breaking the harsh surface, its unwelcoming fingers coiling around her fallen figure. Velvet wasn't hurt, or tired. The electricity had left as quickly as it came. She simply just didn't want to get up. What welcomed her if she rose from the wailing waves? The hateful glares of noble exorcists, existing to protect this world from daemons. Daemons like her. As she sank even further into the freezing waters, she almost enjoyed the unfeeling grasp. She wondered if this was what death felt like.