Fire Away [Lukas/Nero]

THE CITY OF LIGHT
"Good." Lukas bemoaned, rolling his shoulder with a distinct pop as he met the ground. The cracks under foot shifted slightly at impact, dust of structural reishi dissapearing into the air.

Maybe I need to go back to the drawing board. Articles aren't always right... Annoyed at the results of his initial tests, he thought back, those early, painful days sitting against the hospital bed typing away. The sheer amount of morphine in his system made it rosy there, in the back of his mind; but now thoroughly dissatisfied. Layering spiritual energy with the body... Tried internally, but couldn't seperate it from blut.

And the defensive emission of his reiatsu only seemed to work at close range, anyway. His gaze slipped from Nero's repositioning for a moment, down to the leiden hant that had defined so much of his time with the Vandenreich - Are you why, old friend?

Distracted, Nero's attack would fly with impunity, Lukas' focus on spiritual pressure leading him to stand solidly, left arm reaching forward. "Maybe something like this."

Lukas' spiritual pressure had filled the room before, and now noticeably wavered, shifting, shrinking - pulling back towards the man against the absorption of his palm. Arrows of flame poured against him; several torn apart as their reishi was absorbed into his palm with absolute focus. Edges dulled as they touched skin, fire wavering before turning to dust. Localized to his fist, the rest barely adjusted course, if at all.

An audible groan, as the smoke and dust moved to clear. Several puncture marks dotted his bare chest, the heat sealing any blood from exiting. Yet his arm seemed fresh, it's wrapping not even scuffed underneath the flames heat. Lukas' face smeared with soot, a free hand aching as he drug it across, skin becoming visible once more. Cracking his neck, air shot from his nose, a cloud of black. "Not bad."

His gaze locked to the man, Lukas smiled widely, canines glittering against light. "If I were the man I was last year, would've done some threatening damage. Now, though?" Blut flooded against his skin with a heartbeat, veins filling with red as he inhaled deeply.

"Let's call it a learning experience." Before the words fully reached the other man, Lukas moved. Shifting ground giving way to a catapult of rubble, a halo of destruction as he appeared in front of Nero, arm surging red as he aimed for a gut blow.

In the face of Sklaverei, even one of his most exceptional techniques was rendered to nothingness, reduced to mere embers. Radiant arrows were repurpose once more for his opponent's use alone. Witnessing the phenemeon a second time was doubtlessly disheartening, frustrating even. He launched two attacks that were of no small note from his perspective, and both of them achieved nothing. What else could he consider it but infuriating?

His warrior's pride was being ground beneath the man's feet with each second that passed, resolve waging battle with reality. The reality was, without question, that this spar would not end in his favor. His current display of the slavery skill was damnining proof of that.

Coupling that with the option of Letz stil being off limits under the terms of the rules, he could not envision a scenario where anything he did would merit anything one would consider "successful." Even his admission that an attack of this nature would have did him harm felt almost patronizing in nature. Either way, before he could even contemplate a strategy in the first place, Lukas was already roaring toward him at a breakneck pace, arm shooting forward for haymaker to the gut.

The sudden nature of the attack afforded him a brief moment to erect a defensive measure in the form of Blut Vene, but it was a ill-timed counter at best, far too late to rescue him from his fate. The inevitable collision would come to pass as his fist mercilessly connected with his gut. Emptying the contents of his stomach along with the spittle of saliva, Nero gritted his teeth in frustration. What a poor display, Nero Arant. Was that really that your prized archery amounted to? Ah, how frail. How feeble. At the slightest failure, he would break down when his best laid plans were rendered futile.

What did he do now, then? Fall haplessly to the ground and burn out? Or execute one more strike in a desperate display? Between burning out in shame and burning out in glory, he chose to gamble on glory. If his fist remained where it was, Nero latch onto his body like a wild animal, his bow dispersing into the air. The dispersed particles were repurposed into superheated flames that quickly began to grow exceedingly hot.

If his arrows could not land anything of note, he would use his body as a cataylst even if that meant burning himself in the proccess. His body would catch fire with the sole purpose of managing some form of damage against him. Naturally, he expected to be thrown off and cast to the ground for good, but he wanted to fight against his fate with unyielding grit.

THE CITY OF LIGHT
"Thought you'd be tougher." Lukas lied, his nose turned upwards at the smell of bile. Nero latching onto him like a newborn afraid to leave the nest, the air around him turning stale before becoming hot. Silver eyes dissected the determination spreading into the younger man's face, and all Lukas could think -

Again?

With a frown, Lukas punched forward with the entangled arm, pulling it immediately away when any velocity was reached by Nero. His voice traveled slower than the blow, but his ridicule was easily understood. "What are they teaching you in the Sternritter? Can't get the guy, so blow yourself up? Same shit with half of you all."

Shaking his head, Lukas landed from the height with a thud, seesawing a loose piece of rubble before being able to stand. Fingers jabbed pointedly, digging into the side of Lukas' skull as he yelled - "Now stand up and use your fucking head."

There was something decidedly mocking in Lukas' admission. Thought he'd be tougher? In what universe did he imagine that was realistically possible? Even if Nero believed he was unaware of his constitution, the idea that he was anything close to him as a warrior was laughable. Nero hugged the empty air as another fist erased his ambitious effort. His body became airborne, his reward a miserable crash to earth. An embarrassingly humiliating display.

It was, perhaps, a blessing that Lukas negated his attempt before his body could expend its energy reserves. Yet, with no discernible way of gaining momentum, it felt more akin to a useless consolation prize. Even so, he would not allow his division to be blamed for his ineffectiveness.

"I am new to the Sternritter. My failures are purely reflective of my inability. It was a reckless act repaid with a fitting punishment. You're the second opponent I've faced where my archery feels less like a weapon and more like a detriment."

Rising from the ground, wiping his mouth, his prized longbow reconstituted itself within his palms. How many more battles would he experience this? Where both arrow and perception were as useful as a pebble on the roadside? Was he truly so ineffective a foe?

"Unless I overwhelm you with a greater degree of reishi control that you can't easily repurpose, I can't imagine a scenario where I end up leaving a fine impression on you."

THE CITY OF LIGHT
"You're not playing with a full hand if that's all you're considering." Lukas' arm dropped to his side, Ahnengeist materializing with the ease of a taken breath. "You try to fight at range, and it gets blocked, so then you try moving in for a blitz. Stop me if I'm giving you too much credit, by the way."

His voice was sharp as his stare, cutting in Nero's direction. "Except, you still use a projectile. And it gets blocked in the same method. So you start thinking - what do I do? You panic," Swinging Ahnengeist down, Lukas stepped forward, edging towards his fellow quincy. "and go for a last-ditch move. Problem is, you haven't practiced your last ditch move, because you aren't preparing for a last ditch situation."

Standing a sword's length in front of the man now, Lukas raised Ahnengeist to chest level, its tip wavering centimeters away from Nero. "Assume I'm your equal. How would you handle this situation? Word by word."

"Assume I'm your equal...?"

Nero quietly pondered his words. In a battle between life and death, Lukas' assertion was incontestably correct. Rushing in as he did just now, with no game plan outside of "self-destruct" was damning proof of that. He could not affect the tide of battle with his long-range prowess nor was he inherently well-equipped to challenge the man in a battle of repurposing reishi. There was a wide gap between them, one he found himself incapable of overcoming. Furthermore, he doubted he could defeat him even with Letzt Stil.

Assuming he was his equal, a myriad of thoughts came to mind. Rather than waste energy on a battle of reconstituting reishi in favor of attacks, he would undoubtedly default to his archery, aiming to overpower the man with numbers. If he was capable of defending against that, then what?

What was the next course? Would he engage him in a contest of blades? It was not his particular forte, but it was a promising fallback compared to his foolish act just now, far more ideal in execution as much as a last resort he could take pride in. At least, then, his destiny was in his hands.

"Considering the circumstances at hand, I would... face you in a contest of swordsmanship. Engaging you in a contest of reishi would be counterproductive and waste time. Additionally, expecting you to remain stationary, considering the speed you've displayed thus far would also be foolhardy. At least with my blade, I control my destiny... to some extent."

At that moment, his spirit weapon shifted from a longbow to a longsword. Following that, crimson veins spiderwebbed across his body, activating Blut Vene. Assuming an offensive stance, Nero would regard him with renewed vigor in his gaze.

"From the top, then, Lukas."

THE CITY OF LIGHT
"So there is something in there." Ahnengeist flicked up, faster than Nero could perceive - a light tapping on the man's head with the flat of the blade, not that it wouldn't hurt. "Still, getting ahead of yourself. Swordplay, right direction. Said 'assume' for a reason, though. You see the sword, you know your ranged attacks aren't working." Lukas spread his arms wide, the sword drooping towards the earth.

"Then you can probably figure out which arm is dominant. Plus, it's the same place where I'm defending from." Taking a step backwards, Lukas crossed his arms as Ahnengeist returned to reishi. "So, again. My sword is still at your chest. You've had no success at range, reishi based attacks seem to have little effect overall. Your opponent is left handed, swordsman, can assume they fight at close to middle range."

Fingers propped up as if the man were listing off a grocery list, his eyes sharp as ever. "Don't bother with honesty, courage. When you're out there, it's life or death. Play dirty."

"Play dirty?"

Nero was familiar with the concept. During his battle with Emil, the veteran quincy wasted little time in reminding him of the futility of fighting his enemies with lackluster tactics. At several points of their duel, he instructed him to strike him like down with brutality, to kill him at any cost. Now, Lukas was repeating a similar edict.

Magenta eyes surveyed his weapon, his weapon turning to reishi, his movements. There was a minor annoyance at the hilt of that weapon tapping at his head, but the lesson was more pertinent, absorbed the whole of his focus.

Gripping at the hilt of his sword, he decided to indulge the man's advice by immediately shifting into action at the end of his instruction. Springing off of one foot, he swung his blade in a straightforward thrust, releasing a film of fiery reishi along the air, aiming to stab him in his chest.

"Very well."

THE CITY OF LIGHT
"Good." Lukas' instruction came from critical life and death situations, something he was wary in his ability to actually translate without the same catalyst. It helped that Nero was far from a novice - that'd be it's own problem, one day.

"Dying because of your own pride is no different from dying in your sleep." The fiery blade roaring towards him, the man's arm intercepted, focusing the flow of his reiatsu tightly to shield his palm. Grabbing at it, the blade tingled against skin, smoke spilling from between his fingers. On his finger tips, it felt better - Range and attention. Will. Keep your head straight.

"But the battlefield is a place where death comes, pride or not. In those situations?" Lukas forced Nero's sword arm backwards, closing what little gap was left. His fist tapped the man's chest with no force, "That's when you justify being self destructive. Brutality is usually less permanent than death."

Dying because of your pride is no different from dying in your sleep.

Even in the heat of battle, those words cut through his mind like a knife through hot butter. It was certainly true that his prior tactic was orchestrated purely on the thought that he stood no chance against his man, and quite simply wanted to go down in a blaze of glory while damaging him to a margin he found satisfactory. Prideful as he was, there was no fault in acknowledging such a thought, though that elicited an effusion of several other questions that quickly took root in his mind, voiceless thoughts to be brushed away for now as his superior foe countered his techniques once again - holding his sword as though it were but a small ember to find comfort in during the cold.

"Far be it from me to assume this, but you seem to have quite a familiarity with fire."

His sword arm was forced back. That, too, was to be expected. Even so, Nero stood tall, activating the offensive function of his blut to maintain some measure of resistance as he held the man's gaze. How many battles had this man seen? A voiceless question with nothing to be gained from an answer, and yet, he absentmindedly wondered where he stood compared to someone like him.

Of course, that was neither here nor there. At the moment, he simply raised a finger quickly at the end of his words, repeating an act following the doctrine he spoke of earlier, though his words were not lost on him. Finger pointing at his neck, he wholly prepared to suffer a strike to the chest to earn purchase against his form, a beam of solar-like reishi shooting forward like a compressed bullet.

"I think I'm beginning to understand it now!"