Null

Ooc: I’m ill right now, so forgive me if this isn’t up to scratch.

Shrugging, Auron’s eyes traced over Joker, whose blood tinted, recently cut hair flopped around hopelessly. The samurai remained stationary for just a little while, observing the few movements made by the maniac. Barely stifling a smile as the cup and its contents crashed into Joker, Auron tightened his grip on his exquisitely decorated weapon, as if waiting to defend against an oncoming attack. No such action was taken by his adversary, who simply remained in position, clutching his most mysterious of weapons. What was that thing, anyway?

The pair remained almost perfectly stationary for quite some time, yet the Haste spell from earlier was still affecting Auron, causing each one of his breaths to be taken extremely quickly, and he exhaled them with equal rapidity. Auron thought quietly, not letting a single word cross his partially concealed lips. Within moments, a plan had formed in his head, and the tactician’s mouth curled into a smile.

Almost immediately after this expression had been etched onto the man’s hard face, a massive ring of red fire encompassed him, shooting out from the ground in spikes. Currents of hot air rose upwards feverishly, swimming through Auron’s hair and clothes, causing them to flutter around uncontrollably.

Soon enough, this inferno died down, reduced to embers in the ground which left a fine ash black ring around Auron, scorched into the tiles of the arena floor. Almost as soon as this spectacle was over, he swiped his arms out to the sides, gripping his enormous weapon in his right hand. Each arm pointed out horizontally in their respective directions, with each and every muscle on Auron’s body bulging with the effort required to harness his overwhelming power. He crossed over his arms once, then again, returning them to their own sides. His Murasame was kept to the right, pointing downwards now, its tip touching the hard concrete floor.

Salty beads of perspiration rolled down his face, as he remained in such a position for a moment. Despite the intense effort put into this technique so far which was apparent by the strained expression on his face, Auron did not flinch, barely shifting at all as he stood firm, lodged in place in the center of the arena. The crowd was on the edge of their seats, each and every spectator stunned into silence as they observed such a peculiar display of swordsmanship.

Auron grunted ferociously as he pointed the Murasame into the air, pointing its pincer-like tip towards the heavens. All around the two sharp edges, a brilliant blue energy formed in a fashion which resembled electricity. The very stadium shook with power as beads of energy flooded towards the height of the blade which now shimmered like a beacon in the middle of the stadium. This technique was truly extraordinary!

“No mercy!” Auron bellowed, his voice strained and harsh, revealing the truly difficult nature of this technique. Even as he spoke in such a threatening manner to Joker, energy still culminated at the tip of his weapon, intensifying the burning turquoise light.

Finally, bringing the large sword down to his waist, the energy rushed through the length of the massive obsidian colored sword, leaking into Auron’s own body. For the second time in as many minutes, the samurai’s flowing crimson cloak began fluttering mysteriously as if disturbed by some mystical force in the area.

In fact, the shifting of Auron’s clothing was caused by the updraft of wind which circled around him like the tempest it was. Within seconds, the invisible winds had become a perfectly obvious tempest which circled around the warrior monk of Bevelle for the second time during this particular tournament. Soon, the breeze intensified, tearing up shards of debris and dust from all around the stadium, again sucking in all manner of litter and spare pieces of clothing from the stands, as well. The tempest was of immeasurable size now, twisting up around Auron and reaching up towards the clouds.

“Your pain…” he roared threateningly, his voice stretching above the howling winds, booming out into the stadium “…shall be twofold!”

With that threat, Auron himself began spinning on the spot, leaning for balance as he pivoted, stretching his sword out in order to increase his already intense momentum. Having completed dozens of rotations in just a few seconds, the warrior monk halted his spiral suddenly, his sword pointed towards the madman named Joker.

The momentously large tornado sped towards the blonde haired lunatic, approaching at speeds unmatched. Spiraling upwards towards the heavens, the tornado grew in size by the instant. Thick clouds of dust and shards of rock tore up into the sky, obscuring Auron’s vision of Joker – the madman could have gotten to anywhere amongst the confusion, yet could he really escape the confines of the tornado? Auron certainly hoped not.

As the storm reached its peak, Auron grinned, as he unfastened the large white jug of an uncertain alcoholic drink which had been belted onto one of the many buckles which adorned his belt. Looking at the ceramic container for but a second, he bit open the lid, taking a swig of the potent alcohol, before tossing it underarm towards the tornado. As soon as it collided with the twisting cyclone, the entire twister burst into flames, wrapping whatever was encompassed within it in an inferno. The intensely high temperature could be felt even from the stands as the radiating heat licked at the crowd, melting the ice-creams of the spectators.

After thirty seconds of almost unbearable heat, the twisting firestorm eventually extinguished, shrinking into little more than a few embers. Dust still littered the sky, particles of the stuff obscuring all vision in the stadium. Auron took up his battle stance once more, panting as he did so, keeping his eyes peeled for Joker.