Future of Calamity [Under Rewrite]

Chapter 6 - Outbreak

Clang!

The sounds of gruelling battle echoed from around the corner, and a harrowing sense of death pooled from the cleaving of flesh and clattering of blades. This immediately caught the group's attention as they abruptly stopped to listen. Before long, the lifeless body of an exorcist collapsed in view, multiple lacerations carved into his noble robe. Finally peeking their interest, the trio peered around the crumbled walls - the stench of daemonblight knocking Sarid's mind slightly haywire - as they saw the devastation.

Bodies. Daemons, exorcists, no one was spared. Their blood stained the cracked stone - causing a disgusting urge to coil in Velvet's left arm - as the ivory paved a dreadful trail to the perpetrator. A tall man, wreathed in samurai-style robes and armour-plating, stood confidently with his back turned. The colours he adorned contrasted the vile atmosphere, cleanly white and indigo accented in the hues of a beautiful sunset.

"More?" His voice called out, cool and disappointed, as he turned to face his new challengers. His hair was black as night, mid-length and extremely spiky, pulled into a low ponytail and waved to cover the right portion of his face. Despite the veil of strands, strange black markings could be easily seen trailing down into his upper body; even a glint of crimson seemed to flash between his shifting locks.

Seres instantly caught the hostile sheen in his single orange eye, "This one... He's a daemon!" Sarid silently cursed as their foe brandished two small blades from his sash, having been taken from a fallen corpse. Finally facing an enemy of no consequence, the half-malak dug into his pouch and unsheathed one of his two kunai, catching the eye of the opposing daemon. He smirked in earnest, seemingly exhilarated for the upcoming battle.

"Get ready!" Velvet grumbled, before streaking towards the opponent at blinding speeds. Holding his blades in a cross-guard formation, the man grunted as the daemoness' boot dived into it like a missile, hair flailing wildly in the halted momentum. She growled as she sighted his feral grin in the moment, until she flipped off him gracefully. Siezing his chance, the daemon man lashed out at the woman in blitzing slash; only to collide with her unveiled wristblade.

"You're not human," he assessed with sharp eyes from her inhuman reaction time.

"Neither are you," she bit back with a cold stare.

He let out a jovial chuckle, finding amusement in her statement, "True enough!" Wrenching their clash free to dodge a flail of kicks, he leapt back from a ball of flame that emerged from Seres' palm. In the cloud of smoke, dashed out Sarid, kunai in hand, as he found his chance at the threat, the smell of burning flesh stinging his lungs. Once again, the daemon's glance was caught in the masterfully crafted knife; not a single mistake or blemish in its creation. He soon pulled his gaze away as it spun around his opponent's finger, then stabbing out to gouge him. Letting the blade sail overhead, he once again assaulted his target. However, Sarid immediately caught his first dagger by catching his wrist, while the other glanced off his kunai's edge. The half-malak's mind was racing to assess the daemon's capabilities.

Taken aback for a moment, the daemon swiftly manuevered his head as the blade sang multiple times in its direction; buying him enough time to kick Sarid away and dash back as a newborn fire roared under his feet. As Seres gave them a moment of breathing space, the foe gave a wolfish grin. Sprinting towards the searing flames, his blades were coated in a rapid display of precipitation, as droplets of water were trailing off the moisture on the edge. In an impressive display of arte prowess, the daemon split the sea of flames and barreled towards them. Sarid's eyes widened in mild shock, as he sprung back and away from danger.

He witnessed the daggers lunge towards like a pair of hungry wolves, until a feeling sprouted within him. It was familiar; a feeling of dread, and nausea, and it was rising quickly. 'Damnit!' Digging into his pouch as fast as he could, the white-haired man released a strung-up ball out towards the incoming daemon. At such close proximity, he couldn't dodge, and the object discharged an explosion of smoke upon contact. Immediately, he felt the cold floor signal his timing, and he somersaulted backwards. It was instinctual, and he himself could only say it was a wild guess. Nevertheless, the result birthed a proud smile on his face, as a mane of darkness shot from underneath him, and lunged at the stunned daemon.