[@thewizardguy]

~No fair! It's another one of [i]those[/I], Ishtalle.~

<Yes. But you have many ways of dealing with it. Adapt.>

Fair enough. Corban was slightly irritated, but not surprised that the enemy had a super healing factor. This was not the first time he had faced one of those. Far from it, in fact. It distinctly brought to mind the last person he faced with a similar ability - the guyver. Though in his case it was a living powered armor macroorganism that functioned like a microorganism armed to the teeth with death cannons aplenty. He'd deal with her in the same way he dealt with him.

~What did you glean from it? I dont think a simple cut will work.~

<Not enough. I'll need to feel her to properly align myself. What have you learned?>

~A lot. I've learned that she doesn't rely on natural shadow to cast them. The sun is high and there aren't trees to cast shade for miles, and the base has been reduced to sunders.~ he began. ~Not to mention how she summoned one from thin air behind me earlier. I've learned of her regenerating factor, and we can deal with that sure enough. Knowledge is power, right?~

<Right.>

Then Darquesse fleeted within the earth, and the mage wasn't fooled for a second out of thinking what she was going to do. She would, like many others who realized Corban would not be moved in close quarters, strafe-fired. Why did they always strafe fire? She would come to find out that the Guardian was at his most dangerous when he stood his ground. While annoying, the payoff was that Corban had gotten supernaly efficient at catching birds in the sky. Or, er, in this case ground. 

When she shot her lance of shadow to impale the crimson eyed doctor-mage, he'd pivot on the front of his heel as it passed by with corban spinning just enough out of its path for it to glance -but not cut or pierce- the glittering cloth of his left shoulder. Such was the defense provided by diamond flecks and graphene under layers.

This is where he would trap the bird. 

Corban did not need his hands to channel his magic. Enough practice and ingenuity and ones entire body becomes a casting catalyst. Upon physical touch, and in a speed that could dazzle Zeus' bolts, man and blade performed a two-part circuit. Corban raised his blade just out in front of his chest enough to make contact with the shadow, where its first hidden circle would reveal itself. Dispel. Just as Corban learned from Ishtalle, so too did she pick up tricks from him. In the same moment Ishtalle used his body as a conduit to channel a neurological lock-down shock that manifested in a spark of tourmaline yellow. Paralyze. 

her spire would be dispelled and used like an electrical wire, channeling the spell not quite as fast as a lightning bolt, but surely not a mile slower along the magical trail like electricity through a circuit, converging upon the woman.

Now for her cage.

Given she was sandwiched between possibly hundreds of pounds of raw carboniferous material(and he had a bead on her by interacting with her shadow), Corban could act even faster and make the crystal prison even denser. It formed around her quickly like a coccoon, several feet thick and completely eutactic. Since she should be stiffer than a mannequin, there would be little hope of escape.

The bubble metal matured in his hand and the once semi-often reflective glints on the wind were now buried inscrutably beneath several inches of soil amongst the chaos. Meanwhile, the shedded metal particles of his Flinch had begun to coalesce around the arm containing the bubble metal. If she was toying with him, shed quickly realize she would be outlasted. Corban had not even drawn his [i]real[/i] sword, yet. 

Ishtalle blushed. Well, as much as a crystal sword could.