[i]Ok, Plan B.[/i] A shift in course was necessary when he was being beaten down by two beings that, by rights, shouldn't have made it this long at all.

Zargon didn't have one, of course, but he damn well should make one before he was pinned down by two enemies who were obviously trying to tank him out. He decided to focus not just power into his sword, but his essence as well - the procedure would be complicated, but not impossible.

He started to put his very essence in it, his hands leaking energy into the sword and making his body more physical and show more visible and slower regenerating damage as his regenerative ability went into the sword as well. He made up for it by swiping with every limb, focusing on The Red, but swishing some limbs at the lioness as well. His physical form would be torn to pieces quickly without his essence in it, something that his enemy would notice very quickly, but they still likely would not know what his next move would be, and that was what he counted on. He could let his physical form be destroyed and cast a human form spell later. If the lioness continued her assault the back end of his physical form would be destroyed in under 10 seconds after he started the process. He could finish the task in a short amount of time, but he would have  to be able to have something left of his physical form to cast at full effectiveness.

His sword began pulsing with black and purple energy even as his body began to turn a grey color. The sword was extremely durable, but Zargon wondered if it was up for the task.

If not, well, the explosion would end the fight anyways.

---

Artholath stood at a street corner, looking down at the engagement. Zargon appeared to be doing an essence shift; he had seen one in the early years of his existence. But there wasn't time to ponder exactly what the shift was for. He looked at the engagement.

While the combatants were strong, he doubted they were the targets. As he looked into the clump of guards, he felt... something. A type of magic used that reminded him of the early days.

His eyes locked onto a woman at the back, making casting moves. He allowed his eyes to shift into a dark swirling blue so he could see more clearly.

[i]That must be the one.[/i]

He had two options; wait for another time, when there weren't a dozen guards in the way, or barrage them now and have a chance at killing his target, even though pursuit was guaranteed and if she survived, the next time wouldn't be so easy.

He made his decision and shifted into demon form right on the street corner. As he flexed lengthening fingers, he concentrated on the creation of ice spikes of a specific flavor.

If he wasn't going to finish the job, he could at least get a good start.

He pointed every one of his now 12 fingers at the direction of the clump of guards with his prey, and began shooting spikes of ice at them. These weren't intended to be fatal... yet. Just knock some guards to the ground to let him get a better shot.