Fight the Fire | OPEN

The heat of the flames and the urgency of the situation both combined to hasten Archaleos' retreat from the blocked alleyway, but before he turned the corner, voices met his ears. All unfamiliar and only fading with each passing second.

—ini. ...buy more time—— heading out!

No good. Straining his ears to try and discern the words really wasn't getting the Hunter anywhere so, with another disgruntled huff of breath, Archaleos ducked around the corner and shifted into a run to try and pursue the sources. This seemed to be the right direction anyway, and the x-ray capabilities of his eye wouldn't be enough to let him peer through entire buildings to see ahead. Thankfully it turned out that his intuition had been correct.

He'd been too slow to call out in warning to the other Hunters— the first thing Archaleos saw of the courtyard was the male Hunter crumple, eyes rolling as the unknown assailant's blade severed his spine. ...now that was unfortunate. It admittedly startled the teen some to stumble across such a violent display yet, ever the enthusiastic one, it was clear he had a job to do here. Not just to try and spare his remaining comrade but also to capture whoever this masked attacker was. Archaleos had a pretty solid hunch that this guy was involved with the destruction back the way they'd come.

The assailant was distracted with his next target, which gave Archaleos the opportunity he needed to close the distance between himself and them. A rapid volley of footsteps announced his presence before there was the sing of steel as Azriel was drawn from its sheathe to catch the gleam of the sun overhead. A soft whistling, the blade cutting through air in an arcing path straight for the mystery man's midsection; Archaleos wasted no time in jumping right into the fray.

If the attack landed and reduced this guy to a bloody pile then, well, that worked just fine. If not? Hopefully Archaleos could at least drive him away from the other Hunter he had pinned down.

THERE'S A RECKONING A COMING, IT BURNS BEYOND THE GRAVE

There was the shriek of metal on metal— of two honed edges clashing and sliding; snarling like territorial wolves —as Archaleos' strike saw itself parried. It honestly didn't surprise the Hunter much to have the attack not draw blood since he had gone charging across a good twenty feet or so to close the distance, but still. There was a touch of disappointment in it anyway. (How nice it would have been to end this encounter in one move and get on with damage control). Ah well. Archaleos was well prepared to follow his redirected momentum, either way, and hit the ground in a skid just before he caught the flash of motion out the corner of one eye that foretold a kick knifing right for his midsection.

A sharp inhale and he drew his free arm up to block— the kick sent up a sharp clang as it impacted the flat of Archaleos' forearm. That made it a parry on both their parts and left the two combatants standing a short distance apart as the younger male stumbled a few steps back to regain his balance. Next was a tense pause.

❝...haha. I assure you that I can take care of myself,❞ Now this guy just about ticked every single one of his nerves within two sentences, and it showed in the sneer (more like a baring of teeth than a smile) that split Archaleos' lips as he spoke. The pure condescension in the the other man's words— he never had liked been called kid —made Archaleos relish the thought of taking another swing for his face yet he held off for the moment, keeping a sharp eye on both his opponent on the other Hunter who was now crawling her way out of danger in a slow, painstaking drag. Archaleos was aiming to give her enough time to get out of the way, so that he could focus on the coming fight rather than trying not to step all over her, which led him to stand with a rigid grip on his sword and adrenaline silently buzzing through his veins. He just had to hold off for a little longer; shift the focus onto himself.

Archaleos head cocked off to one side with a cold gleam of curiosity lighting his gaze. ❝Just what are you doing here anyway? I think that it is far more risky to go around attacking Hunters and assisting terrorists,❞ It could hardly be called an accusation; this man's voice had definitely been the one he'd heard earlier. Now the real question was why? There were no apparent traits marking him as a magi (though that didn't mean none existed) and, in that case, what was motivating him to run around with those animals? To kill his own kind for them. A dry, humorless laugh escaped the Hunter. ❝Forget getting myself killed, I'm more at risk of being sick if you tell me that you're a magi sympathizer.❞

THERE'S A RECKONING A COMING, IT BURNS BEYOND THE GRAVE

It wasn't unjustified to call Archaleos arrogant or haughty, prone to looking down on any opponent who stepped in his path, but hasty? No, definitely not— the Hunter was methodical just by nature and he never threw himself into a fight without thinking first. Tracking dangerous prey so recklessly would only get you killed.

This meant that both of the combatants could now be seen watching each other closely as the tension, the hostility, crackled like charged air before a thunderstorm. Simply looking at the other male told Archaleos a few things: such as the fact that his adversary had a few inches of height over him, probably a bit of weight too, and seemed comfortably skilled with those knives of his. This would be a close quarters fight. The hood was also enough to obscure any of the man's notable features, but even if Archaleos had had a clear view there would be no recognition from the younger of the pair. How was he to know someone who had turned their back on the Guild more than a decade ago? Well, the knowledge certainly wouldn't have bolstered his opinion of this man. Being a magi supporter was disgusting enough.

Archaleos' dark eyes narrowed to slits as the other spoke again and he met the stare head on, following his opponent's prowling giat with his eyes. The Hunter only shifted his stance to turn when it became impossible to follow by moving his head alone. ❝Compel you? If you had any human decency you would have already realized how unforgivable the things you are doing are,❞ Said with a mixture of warped amusement and disdain. Nothing quite riled Archaleos' ire like being demeaned for his age or his loyalty, so there was fury too that made his ensuing laugh grate in an unpleasant bark of sound. ❝You're the animal here, but that suits just fine.❞ It would be extremely satisfying to put this one down.

The mention of the woman brought his attention skipping back to where she lay, prone and futilely trying to escape, and Archaleos bristled in outrage all over again when his opponent struck her down. Yes unfortunately there were far too many distractions in place that kept him from thinking about the magi— possibly about to escape, but equally likely to come across the Hunters he'd come with —and the teen was not about to lose focus on this fight. Deplorable or not, this man was dangerous. Merciless against all in his way and excelling at pushing Archaleos' buttons, that's for sure, but also taking the fight right to his face.

Fast— the Hunter noted right off the bat as his opponent closed the distance in mere moments and he was put immediately on the defensive. A quick back step was enough to save Archaleos from having his feet knocked out from under him, but the ensuing barrage of strikes forced his sword in close just for the sake of fending off blows. A sharp edge and metal forearms were useful for this and Archaleos grit his teeth, robotic eye illuminating a soft yellow in the hopes that he could better keep track of the movements and find a chance to retaliate. This guy had no discernible pattern, which sucked, yet the Hunter's reflexes were enough to guard his center (he was still definitely going to have bruises after this) until he chose to strike. Gripping tight to the handle, Archaleos lashed out with a wide arc of his sword— hoping to drive the other male back —before lifting his arm to bring a strike down and diagonal on his opponent.