Snippet #2416295

Rage was a funny thing. Anyone who fancied themselves a skilled warrior found it easy to belittle it, to damn it as the actions of the foolish or careless. To see it as only a savage, wild, haze that blinded the warrior in combat yet this was only to see its faults. Rage, as all things, had its strengths. Rage made you fearless, it made you strong and unflinching. Rage turned a ordinary man into a beast that consumed all in its path. To stand before rage was terrifying and chaotic, fear crept into the hearts of those standing against rage.

Such strength rage provided that as his fiery transformation took hold the swirling blades of hell fire, slashing wildly in all directions ended Athos' lightning fast attacks. In the brief moment when he appeared beside the fire bearer one of the blades struck the assassin. The fire seemed to erupt on impact sending Athos flying backwards, to tumble through the ash of Bergstadt, his armor hissing from the heat. Fortunately for the assassin while the blow was savage it did not strike anything vital. The red hot blade of the Crimson Man, wreathed in flame, sliced cleanly through the assassin's black armor leaving a nasty gash along his chest. While a shallow wound the skin and flesh sizzled with heat. Athos gritted his teeth in pain as his body exploded with the pain that accompanied the wound.

That strength born of rage, while powerful, did blind one. It blinded the Crimson Man to two things. It blinded him to the separation he was putting between himself and his kin. Even as a third "god" appeared calling for an end to the duel the rage in the Crimson Man's heart muted the words and they went unheeded. The second thing it blinded him to was something much more subtle. It blinded him to the body language of the assassin as he rose from the dirt where he fell.

The Crimson Man coated his body in flame, like armor born of fire it covered his body from head to toe. The man on fire stepped forward, igniting the very earth with each step. Wicked glee poured fourth from the maw of the fire deity.

"Come here, little human, lets see you fight me now."

The words were dripping with malicious intent, as if some great predator was speaking to its wounded prey. Yet the predator seemed to not notice that the prey was not running any longer. His evasion had ceased, his erratic blinking had come to an end after the viscous blow. He stood staring down the fire god with eerie calm as his own blood dripped down his dark visage. Beneath that black mask of his Athos Lorio smiled. The grin rivaled the fire gods malice in full.

"As you wish."

Was all he said before he too coated his body in a protective aura of his own. Where the Crimson Man allowed his body to be consumed by flame the assassin's body was consumed by nothingness. His body vanished from the world of the visible and walked now among the unseen. Unlike before he did not reappear elsewhere but remained hidden. The Crimson Man for all his power and rage could burn cities to the ground, scorch the earth with a touch, hack young women in two but could not fight what he could not see.

The blade cut through the air, tip aimed for the base of the fire gods spine. The volcanic heat would no doubt melt the blade once it hits its mark but it mattered not. Once lodge firmly in the back of the Crimson Man's neck it would have served its purpose. Athos put all his strength and silent speed into the unseen thrust as he stood behind the man on fire, ready to kill a god.