The swing that the vampire threw at Kurt was, if anything, even more artless and clumsy than the two before it, but also much faster and stronger. He barely had time to flare his o to its safe limit and put his sword before him before it reached him.
He felt the force of it travel up his arms and through his body when he blocked it with his blade, which had atleast managed to cut into the thing's fingers. But even then, only at a skin level, being stopped by the vampire's Red Aura-reinforced muscles. Bellowing out a roar, the vampire threw his weight behind his cut fist again, more pushing than punching, and send Kurt back a few feet.
"Auurgh!" the vampire howled in pain, rubbing the smoking cut on his knuckles. "Hurts! Hurts!" He turned to Kurt with murder in his blood-red eyes. "You son of a...WRAAGH!!!"
Finger-thick veins popped all throughout the vampire's body, and his muscles bulged to an even more unnatural degree, inflated by cursed blood and twisted Aura. As if driven by the memories of the blood he had stolen, he fell on all fours, frothing at the mouth.
Seeing where this was going, Kurt began backpedalling and, as he did so, he conjured his wand, holding it at navel's height and attuning it to a very special element. A purplish hue covered his hand, and as he retreated, a trail of ionized hair stretched behind his wand, which began growing even brighter.
The vampire charged at Kurt, running like a wolf. So low was he running that, despite having a solid foot or more on Kurt, his head only stood as tall as the boy's stomach, and just as tall as the glowing trail of electric potential that led to it.
Heedless and uncaring of the danger, MacArthur charged onto the luminous trail, his face parting it like a ship amidst the waves.
Kurt dispelled his wand, and the electrons trapped within it flowed back where they belonged as a bolt of plasma, slamming right into the vampire's face. A pained scream his fanged maw as the left side of his face was charred black, with the eye popping like a zit. His body tensed and paralized mid-stride, carried forward by inertia alone.
Kurt didn't miss the chance. Kicking back, he propelled himself forward, towards the vampire, and rammed his sword into his stomach. Without one of his eyes, the vampire's depth perception was gone, and so he didn't realize that Kurt was charging until he had already run his sword through him.
He reacted quite rapidly after that though, screaming and kicking (Damnit. Kurt must have missed the spine by a hair-thin) and bringing his arms around Kurt in a rough imitation of a bear hug. Kurt was even faster to react, though, crouching beneath the enclosing death-hug and, with a heavy sole-planting kick, pushed the vampire away and onto his back, yanking Silver Demon off his stomch in a spray of black blood.
Either the animalistic instinct within his blood or his rage must have guided MacArthur's actions, because as soon as his back hit the rock, his entire body spun around and he darted away from Kurt, again on all fours, not stopping until he reached the opposite end of the chamber. Once he did though, he was forced to stand up, leaning against the rock wall for support, and turn to Kurt in fright.
The wound on his stomach positively drooled black blood, and its edges were burnt black and steaming, with the entire thing gaping weakly like a hungry mouth.
"Auuugh!" cried the vampire as he clutched the wound with his non-injured hand, swinging the other at Kurt, as though to swat him away. "Get away from me! Get away. GET THE HELL AWA-!"
Sheesh.
That was the sound that came from his fist when a sharp spray of blood shot out of its wounded knuckles. The blood shone with the red-black of its owner's corrupted aura, and when it sprayed against the ground, it carved a thin gash onto it, one as long as Kurt was tall.
MacArthur stared at that gash, then at the cut on his knuckles, and finally at Kurt. Baring his teeth, he pointed that fist at Kurt Green Lanter style, and the muscles on that arms swelled to their limits, straining the skin almost to the point of shredding.
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And then it violently deflated, as another blood-scythe shot out the wound, poised at Kurt's head.
It was as fast as any other attack Kurt had ever faced, and so thin that it was nearly invisible. It was only because of how utterly telegraphed i was that Kurt could crouch under it, letting it carve its way into the chamber's opposite wall instead of into his own neck.
Letting out a frustrated scream, the vampire released yet another blood-scythe, this one slower than the last, but released much faster, and aimed it at Kurt's stomach. This one, Kurt parried with the flat of his blade, dispersing into into a spray of droplet's.
Seeing the vampire ready yet another of those slashes, Kurt decided to play into this, remembering his fight against Ruth, and so he conjured his wand and, with it, cast a Maelstrom Shield. The spell materialized a vortex of verdant energy that spun clock-wise from Kurt's perspective.
The vampire released yet another slash, and this time Kurt made no attemp to evade it or block it, letting it crash against his shield instead. The thin, shinning-red blade clashed against the roiling wind of his spell, and was swallowed by it, warping and stretching and changing its course, ending up as a spray of red mist released from the shield's edges.
Seeing this, MacArthur seemed to reach the end of his nerves, because all fear and pain seemed to abandon him,and he charged once again at Kurt with one of those too-wide swings of his. Kurt, who, from his only previous experience with the spell, had expected a barrage of those blood-scythes, took longer than he should have to react at this, trying to side-step the attack without even dispelling his shield.
The vampire's charge, with all its mass and might, tore through the roiling wind like it was a summer breeze, collapsing the spell in a chaotic blast of pressurized wind that was deafening in its intensity. Fightning against the instinct to curl up and cover his ears, Kurt instead spun on his feet, blindly driving his sword at the spot where MacArthur must have been standing.
He felt the blade at it sank into flesh, but only swallowly, having been stopped again by the thick, armor-like muscle of the vampire. He was forced to yank the blade out and bring it to cover his face to try and block the back-handed fist MacArthur threw its way. The mithril of his sword bellowed a sound like a bell when the vampire's fist clashed against the flat of its blade, and this time Kurt didn't even try to stop the blow, instead jumping back as far back as he could to disperse the force, landing nearly twenty feet away, but on his feet at least.
He expected for the vampire to try and give chase, but it seemed like that wouldnt be the case. The wound on his stomach reopened from the effort that charge and swing had taken, vomiting black blood onto the ground. Even its charred edges seemed to sizzle and smoke anew. He didn't even scream in pain, just falling to his knees with a whimper, having to support himself with a hand to avoid falling on his face. Turning his face at Kurt, he once again pointed his slashed fist at him, and the dimming glow of Red Aura around his body strained bright for a moment.
This time, as he conjured his wand, Kurt opted for a more offensive countermeasure. The spectral implement exploded with crimson energy, and a fist-sized Fireball shot out of it, slamming against the vampire's knuckles, cooking and searing their meat, cauterizing the wound shut.
This time MacArthur did scream, a ghoulish howl escaping from his throat. Kurt's heart wasn't swayed, and he continued his onslaught, raining blasts of pure heat all over the vampite's body, It wasn't long until the smell of charred flesh and boiled blood filled Kurt's nostrils, and he only stopped when it became intense enough to prickle at his eyes.
What he then saw before him was a thing of carnage: a frame splayed out on the blackened rock, all charcoal black skin and pale pink muscle, with the stray flame still rising from its form. Though the figure stood as stall as he once had, it was now at least half its initial bulk, consumed by the searing heat into a gangly parody of what it had once been.
And despite all that, he was still breathing, and grasping with his fingers which were all bone and sinew,, as though trying to crawl away.
Kurt walked up to the figure, until he stood with one foot at either side of its torso, and rose his sword with both hands, visualizing the thrust he would deliver, trying to hone his precision to the limit of what he could give.
MacArthur turned his face to Kurt, looking at him with his one good eye. His face was gaunt, drained by flame and blood loss, and he tried to say something, though the sound didn't manage to retain any meaning. And how could it, after having to travel through that windpipe that was riddled with holes and that mouth whose teeth were thin and blackened as charcoals.
Once again, Kurt hardened his heart, and spoke firmly, "Close your eyes. Rest your head. The pain will be over soon."
The man gave something like a whimper, closing his eye and letting his head fall on the ground. Then, he murmured something, and this Kurt understood. "So close... I was so close..."
Kurt took in the words, saying nothing, He let out a breath he didn't know he'd been holding, and then he brough his blade down. Its shimmering tip pierced through skin and muscle as though they weren't even there, slid in between two ribs, and pierced right into the heart. A strange glow emanated from within the ribcage, searing white light twisting around all-consuming darkness, each one trying to defend its claim to the body. But they were equal in force, and they soon annihilated one another, leaving nothing but dead flesh behind.
He yanked his sword out softly, trying to do no further harm to the body, and walked away from it. This was, Kurt realized, the second time he had killed another person. He might have mutated into a semi-undead thing, but Rudy MacArthur was still a human being, one that he wasn't sure he could call 'evil'.
He had won his fight.
And he didn't feel happy about it.
You have leveled up *4* times. HP, SP, and STM restored to 100%!
LV: 16 à 20
All stats up by *4* points.
That golden-white glow enveloped Kurt, washing away all pain and exhaustion.
He let out a tired groan all the same, and immediately made his way into the tunnel Buck and Alfred had traversed ino, using a fireball as a torch.
It took him less than a minute to reach the tunnel's end, a dome-shaped chamber the size of his room back at home. And what received him within that chamber was the sight of chopped out, human limbs, and the sound of Alfred's sobbing, mixed with high-pitched yelps.
Kurt VS MacArthur: Good, or too onesided?
