Nemeses Clash

Ragnar faced Cyanide, a good thirty meters opposite him in a decrepit and overgrown area of grass and trees. Probably what used to be one of the parks near Aterra HQ, now desolate and overrun by the ravages of time.

"So, Cyanide," he boomed, inspecting his greatsword as he spoke. Cyanide scoffed at his insolence. "You claim to know me. My history. So it begs the question…do you consider me a threat?"

Cyanide responded bluntly, voice devoid of any emotion or arrogance.

"No."

But rather than being pissed at this like any normal person would, Ragnar gave a deep chuckle. "Hmph. I would call you arrogant, but… it would be more accurate to call you blinded. Let's see if I can knock that ego down a few… hundred notches!"

Cyanide ignored his goading, and immediately dashed away as Ragnar leaped forward with a frontal cleave of his greatsword. So predictable.