THE FELL OMEN VS THE TARNISHED

He stood up in the hallway and thought of twin blades as a pencil. He spun the handle away from his torso to get a gist of how to use the weapon properly. He swung the blade across his chest while adjusting its weight equally. Each swing did not cut a singular part of his body nor did it touch Tyr.

He started adding the twist of his body to each swing. With more added torque to each attack, they began to increase in power. The blades on each in beautifully trace the air as if Tyr was painting on air. In Elden Ring, the stats for the weapon scaling also determines the mastery of that weapon. Due to his prior training with the Uchigatana and his technique copying, his dexterity was high enough for his body to instinctively and reflexively learn how to use the twin blades.

Sòlas watched Tyr wield the twin blades in awe. "Astounding." She commented.

His hand gripped the handle, adding more pressure to it to stop its continuous rotation. He looked back at Sòlas. "Thanks for the gift but I think it's about time for me to head out."

"Indeed, you are just outside of Stormveil Castle. I shan't hold you no longer. I shall leave you to your devices. You have my gratitude, Tyr." She begins to fade away into light particles during the end of her sentence.

"Yeah....thank you too, Sòlas." The twin blades vanished from his hand. His fingers intertwine with each other and push forward to stretch his hand, fingers, and wrist. He stretched every part of his body he could through the warm up exercises he remembered in his previous life.

"Alright, Margit The Ugly Bitch. Its time I be on that ASS!!" Tyr air thrusted as if to pump himself up before the fight but as walked up the long hall, marking was layered on the ground. (Oh right, you can summon Rogier for this fight.) He passed the marking. "As if I need him."

The rays of light bore through the opening of the hall. A Cliffside, leading to the doors of Stormveil Castle sat as his path. His eyes are buried in darkness by his hand that cupped over them.

"Foul tarnished, in search of the Elden Ring." A musky growling voice looms over the area yet not a soul but Tyr was in the area.

(The guy that looks like herpes incarnate is calling me foul.) Tyr thought.

"Emboldened by the flame of ambition.

Someone must extinguish thy flame.

Let it be Margit the Fell!"

(I almost forgot how cold yet ugly Margit was. Can I talk shit in Shakespearean... I'll try it out for once.)

"Pardon? Didst a meager omen corrode thine mind with visions of my end?" Appearing in his left hand was the sword of the Beastman Of Farum Azula. "What a preposterous proposition." His blade slams against the ground, digging into the tiles of stone and pulverizing

"Thou tarnished thinks too highly of oneself." Margit replied.

"Hardly." His foot marched forward at a rather slow pace. "I am the apex amongst these lands. An Ill being has't the feintest right to mistake my confidence as arrogance."

Igniting around the free hand of Margit was a golden aura. Its compressed and morphed into the shape of a curved dagger of light. "That tongue, T'is foul as the ambition that burns within you. I, Margit The Fell Omen will be sure to carve it out."

His lengthy arm outstretched, sending the golden blade down the middle and toward Tyr's chest. His large curved sword brushed against the air and shattered the construct of faith. As one was broken, another pierced through the currents of wind. Tyr stops his blade and breaks through the construct again with his mighty blade.

Margit takes a step forward and like a sword swinging through the wind, a loud rough whip sound was emitted after Margit's assault. His body appeared in front of Tyr with the sound lagging behind him, struggling to keep up with his speed.

(He's fast!!) Margit's speed caught Tyr off guard. The omen swung his cane down, dropping its weight upon Tyr's head yet this was matched with a curved blade, blocking the strike. The tiles beneath him crack and cave in. Web like cracks from the feet of Tyr extended to the edge of the cliff beside Tyr.

Tyr adjusted his body, twisting it while pushing the cane to the side. As he turned, Margit attempted to bring his weapon back to him but a foot pushed his arm down.

Tyr swung his bulky sword to hack Margit's arm off but with brutality, the large monstrous man sent Tyr flying over his head.

(Huh? Did he....just throw me?) Tyr was befuddled. Margit only raised his arm up but he did it with enough force to send Tyr packing. Tyr turns his body before he reached the ground and holy daggers were directed at him immediately. Defending him was the sword he's held thus far. Slashing through these energy blades and breaking them like a hammer to thin glass. Blood leaked from his dominant hand. He looked over to his hand noticed this red substance drip to the ground. (Right, without complete holy negation I still take some damage from those attacks.)

His eyes feast upon Margit again and saw the mad fell raging at him. His cane was over head, flailing down again. Tyr side steps and leaps back. Margit followed with a horizontal strike to the chest. Tyr leans back and arches toward the ground. His sword stabs into the tiles below. The weapon misses him completely and upon backflipping, swiped his sword from the ground. He plants his feet and swings at Margit who was now wide open. The cloth in front of his torso is sliced through revealing a scar that was dug by Tyr.

Margit kneeled from the damage and Tyr followed up with a chakra enhanced side kick. Margit fell on his back and rolled against the battlefield. Margit's cane cleaves into the floor to stop his momentum. Blood hits the floor yet Margit did not stop.

"Didst I not warn you? These words of mine are not mere arrogance."

The bleeding stops almost immediately after Tyr finished his sentence. "Well, thou art of passing skill." His free hand summoned a hammer of light that had the length of his torso. Margit drops it on his shoulder. "Warrior blood must truly run in thy veins, Tarnished." With one swing and a jump, he crossed several meters into the air with that seemingly heavy set hammer in hand. Crashing down upon Tyr was a large man and his golden hammer. Tyr jumped back to evade the hammer but the blow back was immense. The strike hit the ground which caused the entire Cliffside to shake and fracture.

His feet was forcibly dragged against the ground to stop himself from flying back any further. He covered his eyes as the dirt and debris flew at him. (This guy....is this his second phase?)