[@supertinyking][@Tyki]

The whitehaired figure suddenly burst into movement, it's slender figure hiding a surprising burst of wiry strength. However, Khaine had fought to many superhuman beings to be surprised about such capabilities. As Gin slid around to Khaine's back, Khaine's arms merely shifted position to block attacks from behind. Lacking the elbows of mortal beings, Khaine had no issue moving his body in ways any creature with an actual skeleton would find impossible, allowing him to block the first strikes of the barrage as he turned to face this strange opponent. The precision and style of fighting showed immense skill, and the creature was fast for a mortal. But Khaine had seen it all before. Every move, every style, every trick. Parry and riposte ripped through the air like a barrage of bullets, blades slamming into each other with a speed and subtelty that was lost on most of the present company. Two masters of the blade clashed, and yet Gin clearly felt his disadvantage. While in terms of raw skill he was nearly Khaine's equal, he lacked the Dread Lord's immense experience. Even the slightest movement gave away his entire swing, even the slightest shift of footing betrayed his style. Gin had spent a lifetime mastering the blade, and gaining a repository of knowledge. But Khaine had spent over a hundred mortal lifetimes, and wielded styles that had never been seen on Earth.

After a brief combat, a dozen blows exchanged in the blink of an eye, Khaine used his vastly superior physical strength to force his opponent back, breaking up the combat. He had sized Gin up, and indeed found him a worthy fighter. It seemed that there were many capable warriors in this world, although this one looked more like a visitor than a native. His style was also a partially customised version of kendo, which originated from the mortal realms of Earth. A planet Khaine had once attempted to conquer. [color=ed1c24]"I will gladly face you, or any you have brought with you. However..."[/color] Khaine's response was interrupted as Gram roared out, declaring that 'it was on', in mortal terms. [color=ed1c24]"Allow me to deal with this matter first."[/color]

A wall of rubble shot towards Khaine, and Khaine's immense greatsword shot out. Boulders the size of cars were sliced into pieces, the weight of the blade sending them wide of their targets. 'Pebbles' the size of a man's head bounced off of Khaine's armour, the mild dents caused by their impacts negligible to the Dread Lord. The lance was merely dispelled, returned to the armoury from whence it came before it could be turned against it's owner. The weapons of Baal were not for the hands of mortals. [color=ed1c24]"You are wounded, Gram. Your power is great, and I wish to face you at full force. Today, I have won. Were you to trap me in the rubble, I would merely return to my own realm, and walk back in unscathed. You, on the other hand, will bleed to death."[/color] Khaine dropped the Reaper Blade, the immense sword he had drawn to avoid Gram's attack. The sword disappeared into a portal, never touching the ground. [color=ed1c24]"Concede, and I have no reason to kill you. You further have my oath that I will not kill your master, nor the natives of this world, lest they challenge me personally."[/color]

Khaine spoke not from a position of arrogance. Gram was a tough warrior, and pain would not halt him. But his impalement would have damaged his lungs, as well as his digestive tract. Effectively, he would begin drowning in his own blood. Alternatively, the acid from his stomach would begin dissolving his internal organs. Even the most dauntless of warriors would soon begin to falter, as the lack of oxygen made them dizzy and weak. And as Khaine had said, collapsing the tunnel would do nothing but doom Gram. Even if Gram was somehow able to kill Khaine before he succumbed to his own wounds, it would do nothing. Khaine would merely be reborn in the Heart of Baal, rising forth once more to lead the armies of his Creator God. As Khaine stared Gram in the eye, both warriors knew that this was the only chance for this fight to end without a death. Should Gram refuse, his end was almost inevitable.