Threads of the Soul

During his oh so graceful, drunken bee descent Seth had been tracking the charging Rhino, ready to tackle it's rider off of his saddle. That was until it stumbled into suplex city and ended up throwing said rider and turning them into a meat crayon drawing a line of crimson across the black page of tarmac.

He hadn't accounted for that, clearly he should have expected something like this. Due to his lack of preparation, however, this meant that he had to suddenly adjust his course mid-plummet. His already graceless descent somehow turning even worse, creating a sight that was akin to watching a baby bird trying to fly as it bounced down the side of a mountain.

By the time he made it close to the ground, he was still not close enough to his target for a proper tackle, so with one last flail of his wings he spun onto his side and lashed out with his foot. Unfortunately Seth couldn't feel the puppets kick connect, but he got a wonderful view as the already half destroyed Hobgoblin was once again sent flying, this time his broken body slammed into the wall he had been trying so hard to destroy.

Landing like a sack of potatoes being tossed from the back of a truck, Corvus rolled across the ground before finally stumbling to his feet. Finally back on solid ground, Seth had Corvus stand tall and casually brush himself off, as if such a horrific landing was intentional and that a fall from 30 stories was like a simple walk in the park.

It was as if he was trying to show off for the multitude of civilian cameras pointed at him, since they had immediately went back to the windows the moment the guards stopped paying attention to them, but alas Seth, and by extension Corvus, was blissfully unaware of this feature of the Communication gift. At least, for the current moment.

No, this show off attempt was merely to protect his own ego after that disastrous flight attempt, as well as to protect the reputation of his alternative persona. How could he know the ramifications of such a performance? Alas, such issues were for another time. There was only one issue Seth could focus on, and was actually aware of, and it was the issue that was currently pulling itself out of the wall.

Still stubbornly clinging to its wretched life, the Hobgoblin staggered forward, leaving a trail of fresh blood dripping from its useless, dangling hand. Despite all the enemies around it, all the people focused on his army and leaving their backs vulnerable to attack, he didn't spare them a single glance.

His single remaining eye was practically glowing red as his gaze never left Corvus' cocky form, glaring at him with an unyielding inferno of the deepest hatred possible. Foam was bubbling at the edge of his mouth, His jaw clenched so tight from his malicious snarl that multiple of his teeth cracked and shattered underneath the pressure of his sheer loathing.

As if everyone involved came to a silent agreement, none tried to attack either of the men as they stared each other down, even forming a small circle around them to give them space to fight at their leisure. Everyone, even those in their own battles, were so focused on the two leaders finally facing off against each other, one oozing confidence and seemingly unharmed while the other had hatred curling off his broken body, that no one noticed the small, innocuous ball of slime slinking its way behind the enemy lines and towards the Hemogoblin mages.

Unaware of the gelatinous horror that was heading towards his remaining mages, the Hobgoblin kept his hateful gaze locked on Corvus as, almost in sync, they reached for their weapons. Corvus simply reached behind him, plucking a pair of blades from his trusty cloak, which was much better suited for this than flight.

The Hobgoblin was more complex, on the other hand. For one, it ironically involved tearing of his other hand. Gripping his limp wrist, he let out a screaming growl as he tore the useless limb away, ripping apart the last few strands of flesh that it had been clinging on with, and spattering blood in an arc before him as he tossed it to the side. Seth almost felt sorry for him, being a fellow stumper. Almost.

Raising his remaining hand to the side, the Hobgoblin spread his fingers and made a grasping motion in the air. The droplets of blood that were steadily dripping from its torn and mangled stump suddenly halted in the air, trembling for a few seconds as they were caught between two opposing forces, before they began to rise. Not back up towards the stump, however. Instead they flowed around the Hobgoblins body and began to form a crimson sphere in the centre of his palm.

Every drop added to the growing size of the undulating orb, droplets even pulling themselves from the ground to join the masses. Once the crimson ball reached the size of a baseball, the sphere flattened and began to expand outwards before contracting in on themselves to become solid.

Finally, the Hobgoblin curled his fingers and gripped the newly formed hilt before flourishing the 75cm long, scarlet longsword crafted from his own discarded blood.

The two warriors stared each other down for another second, which seemed to stretch on for eternity as they measured up their opponent, before they charged forward at the same moment. Their blades clashing as they finally began their duel.

The Hobgoblin swept his blade in front of him, cutting off Corvus' opening stab and knocking his right handed blade to the side, before circling the sword behind him and bringing it over his head in one fluid movement. Stepping back, just in time to dodge the retaliatory swing Corvus took at his torso with his other blade, the Hobgoblin heaved his sword forward and brought it down in a chopping motion. Yet instead of taking Corvus' head, the scarlet sword clashed against the right handed feather, which Corvus had raised at the last moment, and used to push the sword to the right as he stepped left.

Closing the gap between them, so that he could better use his comparatively shorter blades, Corvus drew his left handed blade across the Hobgoblins exposed side, slicing apart his flesh and sending blood cascading outwards. Yet before he could even step back, a crimson spike launched itself from the fresh wound, aiming straight towards Corvus' throat.

Reacting on instinct, Corvus quickly leaned back, the sudden attack sparking against his steel beaked mask, as he raised his foot and slammed it into the Hobgoblins side. The force of the kick separated them once again, giving Corvus some breathing room as they once again stared each other down. Their first clash barely lasting more than 6 seconds.

'That was close... Even if the puppet can't die, it doesn't make it any easier to take those kind of hits. Plus, Astra is already suspicious about the last time he survived getting stabbed. Best not to give her more to think about and risk blowing the identity. He still has his uses.'

Watching as the blood spike melted away and drew itself back into the Hobgoblins body before clotting itself over the fresh wound, Seth clicked his tongue softly. The sound caught the attention of the amphibian guard still lingering next to him, but the man simply brushed it off at general annoyance at the situation. He couldn't blame him either, he felt like a kid watching a real-life superhero battle, he couldn't help but be enraptured by the ensuing battle and secretly cheer for his side in his mind. Although that was a given since it also meant his life.

Once again, Corvus broke into a sprint, charging towards his opponent who stood firm and ready to face him. However Seth didn't bother waiting until they clashed to make Corvus attack. With a flick of his wrists, Corvus sent his blades flying towards the vile Hobgoblin. Not just the one's already in his hands, but an entire volley of them. Every time he threw a blade, he immediately reached back and plucked another before launching that one next. Over and over, like a machine gun of feathered blades, he peppered the Hobgoblin with this relentless assault as he charged forward.

A torrent of blood burst forth from the Hobgoblins stump, flowing in the air under its control, as it created a wall of solidified blood that covered it's head and torso, letting the unyielding barrage of feathers clatter uselessly against its scarlet shield. However that was its first, and final, mistake.

As soon as he got close enough, Corvus dropped into a baseball slide, gliding underneath the Hobgoblins shield. With a pair of fresh blades, he carved through the back of Hobgoblins legs, one blade slicing apart the muscle tendons while the other severed the leg entirely.

Despite its power, it was unable to avoid the basics of its biology, the fresh wounds forcing it to collapse to its knees. As it raised its head to let out an involuntary roar of pain, Corvus quickly rose to his feet, crossed his blades and took that head before it could finish its cry.

Seth watched through the eyes of Corvus as the severed head tumble and sail through the air, a pained expression endlessly carved onto its ruined face. Its eye, which was bulging with sheer disbelief, fed its rapidly dying mind the final image of that irritating feathered man.

[Congratulations. You've earned a Requital.]

Yet even as Angel whispered in his mind to confirm his victory, and the amphibian guard let out joyous cheer at the Hobgoblins death, a dark expression was looming over Seth's face. Because as everyone else was cheering, he could see something they couldn't.

Staring coldly at the severed head, he felt an ominous chill, as in the final seconds of its miserable life and the remaining power of its dwindling brain power, it had gave Corvus a wicked, sadistic smile.

'This isn't over...'