Garden Of The Abyss

"I thought you were going to miss this one."

"Not a chance."

Returning to his place beside Jae-Seong, Aiko, and Fedrin, Ren responded to the curly-haired man's words without returning his gaze--keeping his eyes on the arena as he leaned over the lip of the window.

"You're close with gramps there, right? Does he have this?"

"I am as close as one could be with a man such as himself--few of words--but, I can't say. I'm unfamiliar with his opponent...he looks strong, that one."

Fedrin responded with a hint of worry filling his purple eyes, looking at Jae-Seong, who had posed the question to him.

"He's a knight by the looks of his get-up, right?..."

Ren jumped into the conversation, keeping his eyes on the tall, armor-clad man who strutted into the arena with a gleaming smile, waving to the audience as if basking in the attention already.

"I'd say it's more likely to be a man taking a liking to such armor as a knight leaving his post to venture Purgatory should be unheard of...but there is the case of one of the Victorious Seven being present here."

Answering Ren's question, Jae-Seong rested his arms against the ledge of the window as he flicked his glasses up playfully.

Still, something inside of Ren couldn't be shaken; a doubt that clung to his chest as he looked upon the gallant knight that shared the name of one he encountered in this realm previously.

Let's see who you are, "Galaggher", Ren thought.

Taking to the center of the arena, the man wearing an armor that primarily was built of a glistening silver, padded with lavish ivory that sung of a knight's existence, stood tall as he kept his hand atop the handle of his sheathed sword.

Noticing the knight's readiness with his gauntlet kept so close to his weapon, Bakar's eyes honed on the blade that laid in rest; by the width of the scabbard decorated with gilded feathers, it was a greatsword in all respects with a pommel that represented the talons of a radiant dragon.

Amidst the chatter of the crowd, the knight possessing such dashing qualities spoke words that met only his opponent's ears, washed away by the waves of cheers from the impatient spectators.

"I'm going to kill you."

—Such words were accompanied by the knight's warm smile as he kept his emerald eyes on the stands, waving and basking in the attention. Bakar remained silent, but his guard raised itself plenty.

Kill me? Bakar thought, Try me, boy.

The inhale Asmodeus took before unleashing his announcement was enough to halt the exchange of cheers between the crowd as all fell still in the vast, towering arena.

"ALRIGHT, LADIES AND GENTLE DEMONS! LET'S GET THE NEXT MATCH STARTED! BAKAR VERSUS GALAGGHER—BEGIN!"

With the declaration of violence befalling the arena occupied by the two readied combatants, Galaggher closed his eyes as he gently wrapped his metallic-clad fingers around the hilt of his blade as if touching the weapon reunited him with long, lost memories.

"I'll make it painless, so please, don't scorn me."

Following his softly spoken words, the tall-standing knight parted his eyelids once more as he steadily drew his lengthy blade from its place of rest.

As expected, it was a magnificent blade fit for a knight; dancing across its stainless length, the unnatural, mystic lights shining down from the arena's ceiling scattered, revealing the twin, sable lines that ran parallel along each edge of the sword. It was impossible to tell if it was simply a showing of his strength, or displaying his treasured blade--Galaggher pointed the tip of the illustrious weapon of such immaculate craftsmanship to the ceiling.

It was then that a clear view of the sword was garnered, and its full beauty revealed; the guard of the sword draped down like the wings of a skyborne dragon, intertwined with exuberant blue fabric that wrapped around its pearly steel.

"Come, seasoned warrior."

Galaggher dragged the spotless steel back down, allowing its forefront to point directly at his frail-seeming opponent as his words drew in the beginning of their bout.

And yet, Bakar remained unmoving. The act of nothingness, carried out silently and without acknowledgement drew out a frown from the once ever-smiling knight as he flipped the grip of his blade in his hand.

"...So be it--I shall come to you then."

Placing one hand atop the other in place of the handle of the lavish sword, Galaggher held his blade in front of him before placing it at his side with the tip pointing behind him--readying himself for combat.

The knight dashed forward like a hawk soaring through the winds, quickly encroaching on the elderly man who remained standing perfectly still.

I've got you…! Galaggher thought.

--Or so the knight had thought. The moment he prepared to carve his blade through the midsection of his opponent, a sharp manifestation of magical energy caused his skin to run over with a chill. Following the sudden, unforeseen build-up in magical energy, a dry heat encompassed the arena surrounding Bakar.

Stopping himself before growing any closer to the old man's position, Galaggher kicked away--narrowly avoiding what was born in that singular, minuscule moment.

Erupting from Bakar's form, flames shrieked--stretching out and filling the air with its orange, malicious existence.

"Child, you're oh-so ignorant; filled only with greed, only malice can be born in that heart of avarice. Let me burn it all away for you."

For the first time since stepping into the arena, Bakar spoke as the flames burnt away the robes that shrouded his appearance in enigma. Beneath his robes that became ash carried by the flaming winds, he wore nothing on his upper-body except a pale-white wrapping around his waist, wearing only simple, baggy trousers on his lower half.

"Incantation-free magic...Bakar is strong."

Ren muttered, feeling the heat from all the way over, behind the spectator's open window.

"A mage as old as that guy should at least boast some level of proficiency. But, yeah, impressive."

The words from the curly-haired otherworlder almost sounded a tiny bit malicious as the radiance of the crimson flames reflected against his shades. Though, the one who was closest to the old man didn't say a word; Fedrin kept quiet as he watched the bout intently.

So hot...this is a high-level fire mage…? Aiko thought.

"Those markings…"

Galaggher narrowed his eyes on the body of Bakar; though he was small in stature, his body was chiseled with no fat to be seen, decorated with scars and markings made of black ink, stretching across every part of his upper-half, save for his face.

Brushing the flame that had caught his cape, Galaggher didn't hold his warm smile any longer as he looked upon his flaming opponent.

"You're from Baldrea, are you not?"

"..."

"How interesting; it seems those of Purgatory truly have a sick sense of humor. A Baldrean refugee against a knight of Mastorn--the ones who destroyed his homeland! I wonder if they're hoping you get some sort of poetic justice, or maybe they wish for me to extinguish that which should've already long since expired?"

Galaggher taunted the man, flipping his heavy blade in his hand as the glint in his emerald eyes told of his impatience to resume their battle.

Still, just the right resolve to engage in conflict wasn't all that was needed; a flurry of flames surrounded Bakar in a howling cone, preventing the sword-wielding knight from growing any closer.

"What is it, boy? Are you afraid of being burned?"

Bakar taunted the man, standing still as his lengthy beard flowed in the mystical flames that held no effect on himself.

"Any novice mage can emit their element like a babbling toddler; it isn't anything to act so mighty over."

Galaggher looked displeased by the taunt, standing still as his lengthy cape fluttered in the heated winds. In the wake of the crimson gusts, the sand outlining the area around the small, elderly man was repelled constantly, vibrating and jittering.

It's not just simply an output of flames; he's also manipulating the wind, isn't it? Galaggher thought.

"Is that so? Then I should assume a renowned knight such as yourself should have no problem stepping over here and cutting me down."

"Old man, you're only going to make your death a lot more painful if you keep talking like that."

Galaggher muttered to himself as his eyes took to a certain shine; gripping his sword tightly with both hands, the gallant knight raised it to the ceiling before yelling out.

"Poseidon: Worldflow!"

--With this command, a spell was manifested; coiling around the length of the shining steel, newly-formed water wrapped around the blade in an azure spiral.

"He's a water user!? Crap, Bakar got unlucky…"

Ren gritted his teeth at the sight of the abundant, moving water that clad itself to the greatsword wielded by the knight.

"On the contrary, Bakar couldn't have been any more lucky."

The High Elf's words took the others by surprise, but Fedrin's unmoving gaze remained on the arena--not batting an eye on the development from Galaggher.