[color=black][i]“Oppa G-ga-Gangnam style...”[/i][/color]

Given some time before he was within range of his opponent Tablurath hummed a tune he had heard one of his men playing some years ago. He had not understood a word, and the music had been too fast for his translator. Still he found the song was infuriatingly catchy. The hell did Gangnam style even mean? He had no idea. He shook himself from his reverie when his opponent came within the neutral spectrum range of sight. Well he looked like hell. Perhaps this tournament had already began to take its toll. Understandable all things considered. Years of psychotherapy and grueling mental training had given the Cardinal a formidable will coupled with a strong spirit. The truth was he had been practically created for conflict. 

War. Blood. Battle. 

These things were all familiar bedmates to the Cardinal. Though he did not doubt this wanderer had seen his fair share of violence. Khazna doubted it had been anywhere near the scale he himself had laid witness to time and again. He doubted his heart would have known anything beyond the fighting had his paths not come across that of a little girl years before. One who would change Khazna forever…

It seemed the man was also rather sluggish and most interesting of all seemed to be lacking any significant degree of energy at the moment. His vest seemed to be of a similar design to Tablurath’s own body armor. His opponent at this point had stopped moving altogether. They seemed to be toying with some small object in their left hand as their right arm pulled short. The muscles in that hand clenching and then retracting. All preparing for an action he had seen countless times before. 

Tablurath seemed to pay no heed to the weapon being drawn as he slowed his breathing. His telescopic sight allowing him to make out the most minute of details even from this distance. He counted already one focal point of energy among countless threads. All interlacing through this otherwise unbroken featureless desert. Save the odd statue or stone formation. The thumb of his left hand flicked under the guard of Serenity -there was no time for Mercy- Freeing it slightly from its sheath as he continued to walk forward. Lighter though he may be, he saw no reason to expand energy early on sprinting the distance between them. 

Flash-point would prove tiring in these conditions even for him.