Let's Enjoy [Klein, Amaranta]

"What can I say, babe? I learned from the best! Remember how you avoided me in our first bout? I thought that was pretty fun, so why not indulge in it myself? When it comes to a temperamental feline like me, I guess that comes with the territory, huh?"

There wasn't a fiber in Amaranta's soul that wasn't tremendously enticed by the thought of asserting her dominance over Klein in this battle. Bold as it was to assume, considering the prior strike, Amaranta felt that the momentum lay on her side so far, wholly confident that her current battle strategy would merit the victory she aimed for. On the other hand, the leonine woman idly wondered about the cost versus the benefit. Klein was on the defensive now from her point of view, but that hardly meant this deceptive bastard was compromised. Even now, amid an incinerating tornado, he was casually exchanging words as if this was but a casual stroll in the park for him, a minor inconvenience with little regard to the fact she was swallowing him with an all-consuming conflagration.

Indeed, even under the duress of such monstrously immense heat, he appeared relatively poised. Recalling their last battle, with abilities so unlike the ones displayed before her now, he played the long game until those attacks of his drained enough energy to leave her compromised, all while acting from that crimson haze and attacking when an opportunity presented itself. Didn't it stand to reason that he might possess a trick or two even now? Amaranta was far from foolish enough to assume that the strike that tore across her flesh was executed out of mere fancy. Ah, the nature of his character truly was an enigma to her. He could toy around with his opponents like that brunette pain in the ass, but showcase something like this with her? What a tease.

"Fine, if you want to embrace me so much, I guess I shouldn't keep the sweet prince waiting for too long."

The speed of her charge had generated such a fierce degree of friction and heat that her body and silhouette were shrouded in a large column of flame. The intense temperature was drying out her skin, but the unending velocity of her body only intensified the fire. The fiery lance, now filled with a vast reserve of her spiritual energy, thrumming with anticipation, ached for release. If it filled any further, it would implode and that was less than ideal in her path to victory. In a motion that could only be described as some frankenstein version of an Immelmann turn, Amaranta ascended upward only to descend downward like a plummeting star soaring through the air. At once, bolting toward him at full speed, as though wholly intent on indulging him in his goading, the leonine woman executed her masterful plan. In much the same way he had executed that expanding arc of crimson energy, Amaranta had initially swung her arms forward to display the intent that she wished to return the favor.

At the last minute, the blazing lance was thrown toward him like an arrow at close contact, pinpointed directly at him alone. Before it even had the chance to physically connect, the true nature of the attack was laid bare as a calamitous wave of fire expanded at that moment, set off by a large explosion that dwarfed every other attack she had executed earlier in the sheer destructive mass of the attack. The roiling energy of her spirit power and her release state was proof enough that this attack was of no small import, having offered up a greater portion of her spirit energy to support it. A bold attack, to be sure, but it would be well worth the sacrifice if it tore through whatever kept him afloat. If it missed? That was fine. It would consume this tornado and everything around them in a resounding implosion.

The maelstrom of fire accomplished her primary intention to shift the tide of battle in her favor, burning through the spiritual composition that comprised his defense in this battle so far, even if she wasn't particularly close enough to confirm that. Judging by Klein's momentary pause, perhaps that was proof enough, but instinct told her otherwise. The all-consuming inferno achieved the ideal results she sought outside of toppling him completely, but that didn't mean the battle was over. Pressing the advantage was her topmost priority now. The path to victory was far from assured, even at this phase of the fight. In her domain of fire, Amaranta's gaze swept through the flames in pursuit of her enemy until those radiant eyes recognized an unnatural phenomenon unfurling in this blazing canopy of crimson.

"Someone's upset. Guess I pressed too many buttons, huh?"

Like a wave of meteors hurdling into orbit, a multitude of miniature suns descend from above. Amaranta discerned that this attack outclassed his prior techniques by several orders of magnitude—a retaliation of no small import. In the face of those luminescent orbs plummeting toward her, an outline of a bestial grin tears across her face. Ah, so the scheming bastard had a trick up his sleeve, after all, huh? Of course, he did! Deceptive fighters always saved their best tricks for last.

Even so, the expectation of a counterattack had not been entirely lost on her. Although it was decidedly false to claim she predicted an assault of this nature, the leonine woman maintained her furious acceleration through the air until now for a secondary purpose beyond the accumulating momentum. After all, the nature of her prior attack was opportunity enough to exploit her momentary pause in motion, even more so if the slippery bastard managed to evade her explosive torrent.

In other words, the pillar of flame that currently blanketed her frame had been constructed in the event he came soaring in for another strike with his blade. Now? It would serve a different purpose. The diminishing spiritual energy and remaining conflagration would be her only means of defending herself, but that was fine. There was always her physical strength and natural speed to fall back on. Surviving this attack was crucial. Suffering defeat was out of the question.

Expending the remaining reserves of spiritual energy, her body was set aflame within the vortex of a colossal fireball. The boiling wave of heat within the atmosphere reaches its breaking point, rendering anything unable to handle its sheer intensity into piles of waste. Bolting through the sky like a thunderous streak of lightning, Amaranta shot ahead to contest every single orb of energy on her way toward Klein. Each of those bastards packed an immense hell of a punch, throwing her tall frame afar at every turn, tearing through and burning some degree of flesh as punishment for her dogged pursuit.

Multiple layers of flame was being forcibly ripped away from her body, but she paid it no heed in the midst of this onslaught. Booming laughter rung out through the air, singing a song of defiance as she forced her way through the merciless wave of destruction, vanishing and reappearing before Klein with her fist, ensconced within one remaining layer of flame, sweeping through the air to land one more decisive blow. No matter the result, she would have to give herself some measure of pause before she could pursue him any further, but such was the nature of battle.

The mutual collision was nothing short of extraordinary in its sheer display of brutality. From her point of view, there was a measure of sincere admiration during the whirling typhoon of energy erupting between them. His body was the target of her aggresion, hers the target of his own. A collision with one unwavering notion behind their respective strikes ---that is, imposing their will on the other, two beasts ruthlessly vying for supremacy. Ravenous vulture and stalwart lioness...

What was the result of their momentous clash? The ever present layer of steely energy, consistently refined to suit her ideal form of combat, was no longer present, leaving her wholly susceptible to his ferocious attack. Outside of her naturally impressive durability, there truly was no layer of defense whatsoever to supplement her frame against the full contact of his mercurio-empowered fist.

The tremendous force behind that attack was enough to visibly distort her balance at the point of impact, tearing through flesh and bone alike, turning her midsection into a grotesque mesh of meat and sinew. One of lesser composition and mettle would have certainly died within mere seconds of suffering such a blow. Indeed, for all her bravado, that was simply an irrefutable fact that could not be ignored.

Even now, the only thing that kept her body upright was sheer will and the soulful flame of a warrior who never possessed an intention to falter before any foe, let alone a man who would have gleefully reveled in the poor display. Any notion of pain was supressed by a maddened mind that simply would not accept defeat.

Formidable as he was, the leonine woman was stubbornly resolute. Victory was what she desired above all else, even if he proved an interesting individual through and through. The notion of a draw was no different from an admission of defeat in her eyes. Regardless of his next actions, she simply stood in fierce defiance, grinning, through blood-colored teeth, at the ashen-haired male with rebellious confidence in her battle-worn features. Nothing in her current stance exhibited a desire to conclude their bout on anyone's terms except her own.

"How infuriating. When push comes to shove, you're actually a fine combatant with no shortage of unique tricks and abilities. What gives? Ya tellin' me you only get it up when the moment matters most? On one hand, I'm impressed. On another, I'm competitively frustrated."

"I must be really special, huh?"

On one hand, Klein's words fattened Amaranta's bulbous ego. On the other, much to expectation, she clearly wasn't content with calling the match here. It went without saying, of course, but nothing in her body language displayed a woman ready to indulge in the blissful joy of alcohol. Natural agility alone guided her stride as she rushed toward him. A burn-marked fist shot forward like a thunderbolt, roaring toward Klein's chest.

"Come, now. You gave me one hell of a show just now. Do you really think I'd be content after all that? Sorry, babe, but I'm a greedy feline. Do you plan to leave me unfulfilled?"

To an observer, Amaranta was little more than the image of a maddened woman. Her entire body was layered in burn marks and torn skin, to say nothing of the grotesque mesh of muscle resembling a midsection. By all accounts, she should have been focused on healing and counting her losses, but did that matter to her? Hell no.