Two versus One

The monk sighed, turning to look for any sort of medical help before feeling a sharp pain in hand. Blood trickled from his arm as he turned to see the man trying to cut at it with his blade, the weapon lodged half way through his arm.

He was tossed back by Kaisen, his body colliding with the granite roads once more as he skimmed across it, his opponent groveling in pain from his inflicted wound. 

'Your tactics are underhanded and cheap, have you no honor!?' Kaisen shouted, his teeth gritted to distract himself from the pain on his arm. 

The man got up from the ground, his left arm dislocated from it's socket. 

'There's no honor in survival.' He murmured, his breath coming in lazy pants. 

The monk sighed at the man's statement, ripping the cloth off from his Habit before wrapping his new wound, his arms stretching out as far as possible, palms facing is opponent in a ritualistic position. His opponent, confused by his actions, threw the chain at him once more, it's cold embrace wrapping around his arm.

Kaisen pulled the chain, forcing the man closer as they fought, giving him a nasty blow to the gut. His pupils dilated from the blow. Legs lightly hanging off of the floor from the impact sending him stumbling backwards, tripping over the debris that Kaluar left behind. A shadow looming over him, a man that seemed to be Kaisen waiting to attack him as he fell. The minute he landed he tried to roll away dodging his attack which cracked the granite pavement.

'For someone who talks about honor your power isn't the fairest thing in the world.' The man retorted, his breath heavy and heart racing, looking at the Kaisen who tried to attack him and the Kaisen that sent him stumbling back.

No more words were spilled, the two of them dug their feet into the ground and charged at the man. One of them planting them self to the granite road and shifted their weight sending the other foot flying in a spin kick. The man leaned back, the attack barely grazing his nose and he stumbled only to receive a blow to the gut, the fist of his other adversary digging into his side.

One of the monk's grabbing him by the head drove his knee into his face as the other swept his leg causing him to fall. His back collided against the stone cold granite. Arms raised in an act of defense against the two of them creating a shield of ice to protect himself. HIs body tensed up for each blow the monk did against his shield. His eyes narrowing in fatigue, he knew he couldn't keep this up for long. Blood trickled from his nose and his teeth gritted.

He strained his body, muscles tensing under the weight, his eyes narrowed even more from the strain and fatigue. The shield shooting out in spikes, tearing the flesh of his enemies blood spilling on it's pure ice exterior tainting it in a crimson tint. A relaxed smile forming on his face as his enemies bleed out on the spikes he made. 

The monks threw up blood, their eyes rolling to the back of their head as they disappeared in a blue mist.

The man dispelled the ice, slowly getting up, his body sore from the hell he just ran through. Clutching his sides he looked up to the blimp that flew over head. The sound of footsteps approaching him from behind.

He turned to see the monk once more, his hands coiled back, muscles tense ready to deliver a gruesome attack. He had no time to fully react, no time to think, his hands creating a scythe once more, the blade dug against the granite road, creating debris in it's path to it's victim. His eyes fixed on his adversary before swinging his arms to the sky. Blood gushes to the stars, painting the night sky in a deep red before fall flat on the ground, the arm of the monk lying lifeless near the puddle.

The monk grits his teeth hoping to dispel the pain even if it's just a little, his other arm striking forward and grabbing the man by the hood of his robe, pulling him in for a skull shattering connection of heads. The man's eyes rolled back, instincts taking over as he tried to bite on his neck, blood gushing out of the wound as ice started to seep in.

The monk once more disappearing in a blue mist.

The man's head rang with it's earlier assault. His steps staggering slowly, trying to keep his balance, the sound of something cutting through the wind picking up in his ear. Quickly he shifted his foot to the side, dodging the attack as two needles fly passed his head.

The same sound playing at his senses again as he once again moved this time dodging a sword that was aiming for his neck.

'Seems like the plan has changed a bit.' Merlene commented. A smile playing at her lips as she gripped the hilt of her sword tighter.

'I suppose it have.' Niao responded, her hands clasped together in a silent prayer.

'May your death be a swift one.'

 __________________________________________________

'When will be getting back?!' A man with long brown hair, and brown eyes shouted, his rage evident in his voice.

"If you want, you are always welcome to stay until the lockdown is over," A kind old man offered, patting the back of a younger man, his flock coat the finest silk you could find in the area.

"Get off me!" He shouted, pushing the old man to the floor.

The atmosphere in the town square grew increasingly tense as the commoners clashed with the privileged, fueled by resentment and frustration. The old man, bewildered by the sudden turn of events, tried to defuse the situation but was met with hostility.

"How rude! We're just offering you a place to stay for the time being!" a woman shouted, shielding her child from the escalating conflict.

"Yeah! Maybe we should make you walk on the tracks instead! It will be the first time you've gotten any form of hard labor!" another commoner protested.

"Like we'd want to stay in your rat-filled part of town!" retorted one of the privileged, further intensifying the animosity between the groups.

The tension reached a breaking point, and the air was thick with hostility. Kaluar and Celi, mere bystanders, struggled to comprehend the sudden chaos unfolding before them.

"The king should just kick your riff-raff out. In my opinion, people like you look better in the woods eating acorns and befriending wolves," mocked a red-haired woman from the privileged group, her tone dripping with disdain. "Or maybe we should just make you our servants instead, haha—"

Her words were abruptly cut off as a water bullet struck her squarely in the face, sending her sprawling to the ground. The assailant, a woman with brown hair and emerald eyes, stood her ground defiantly.

"Have you lost your mind! Laying a hand on the privileged!?" barked a man, his disapproval clear as he confronted the poor girl.

"That does it—" the red-haired woman seethed, rising from the ground, her face dripping wet. "Take this, you maggot-infested witch!" She pointed her wand at the brown-haired woman, unleashing a burst of fire that sent the commoners scrambling to safety.

Chaos erupted in the town square, with magic flying in every direction. Injuries piled up, and the cries of frightened children added to the mayhem. The once peaceful town now found itself ensnared in a bitter clash between those who had and those who had not.