He had already spotted Dante. So why was he heading the opposite direction from the arena? Well, he had some business to take care of first. His first step was to confirm the presence of Dante in the arena. Since he was there and the main attraction was yet to come there was high chance that he wouldn't leave before Mor'Dor saw to what he had to do. The time he spent in the arena, he focused on memorizing all the entrances, exits, the number of guards the leader of the Magi had. But something seemed off to him. He hadn't seen his brother anywhere, and him missing this event was odd to say the least. Now a few miles away from all the noise and commotion he entered that part of the city which everyone avoided. The part where all the sick and poor, the criminals and every unwanted person were pushed into. Rarely did the guards ever wander there lest they get stricken by sickness or worst, by a knife. The roads were more like alleyways, narrow and dark, even though it was the middle of the day. There were tents and wooden structures all around the falling and half demolished stone ones. The place was littered with trash, all kinds of trash. You could look and see a sack of garbage and shit only for it to get up and move somewhere else. But he had to be here, he had to visit her. She was the only one present who could pose a threat to him and reveal his secret.

Standing at 6'7" filled with muscle and clearly armed, none would even think to try and rob him. No one sentient that is. But the creatures here didn't all posses that luxury. Some were starved for days, others had lost their minds, especially those who stood before him holding sharp sticks and knifes. Without slowing his steps or even taking out a weapon, he continued walking. As soon as one made to approach him his hand shot out and slammed their head to the wall, adding another hole to the crumbling structure.

[color=9e0b0f]"Forbidden Technique : Curse of the Damned"[/color]- the Tiefling muttered as a cursed seal was implanted in the forrhead of the thug. Releasing him, the thug fell to the ground only to hold his head in his hands, screaming in pain. His blood and veins were set ablaze and only one thing could lessen the pain, blood. He launched for his friends, who were taken by surprise, sinking his teeth in another's arms. For a time he was content with blood but then the curse spread and the blood he was drinking also lit his innards afire. Now both of them felt the need, were enslaved by it, so they both launched for the others. In the end they had all succumbed to the curse and were about to disperse looking for more victims when the Tiefling released the curse, setting all of them aflame in a red fire. If he had let them loose, in short time they would've ventured outside of this shithole to the commoners and the market area. Being a low tier curse that could be easily negated by a strong will or someone with the most basic knowledge of dispelling curses it would only cause for an investigation which could lead to him. All the while that was transpiring, he hadn't slowed down his step.

Reaching the end of his journey, he kicked down the wooden door of the stone building and entered inside. Darkness engulfed him but his senses could see as clearly as day.
???:[color=1b1464]"You have come at last."[/color]
Mor'Dor:[color=9e0b0f]"I see no need to prolong this any further. I know of your powers, witch. You must already know why I'm here."[/color]
Witch:[color=1b1464]"Indeed, that I do."[/color]
Mor'Dor:[color=9e0b0f]"And you must also know that there is no going back now."[/color]- he said as he took 3 more steps forward.
Witch:[color=1b1464]"I also knew that this route would be the most painless."[/color]
[b]*2 more steps forward*[/b]
Witch:[color=1b1464]"Things are set in motion."[/color]
[b]*Mor'Dor stopped*[/b]
Witch:[color=1b1464]"I haven't...told anyone about you but this action marks the start of your ruin."[/color]
Mor'Dor:[color=9e0b0f]"Is that the best you could do?"[/color]
Witch:[color=1b1464]"Only a glimpse of the worst that is to com-"[/color]-a hand to her throat interrupted the witch's speech.
She was a young girl with fair skin, raven black hair and eyes wearing a black dress. He held her up by her throat with his right hand and placed his left hand on her forehead.
[color=9e0b0f]"May the Fire [b]Cleanse[/b] your Soul as you pass on from this realm."[/color]
As he said those words, smoke started rising from the mouth and eyes of the witch. Smoke which turned into a raging flame erupting from whence the smoke came. A silent painful scream could be read on her face as her skin started aging, her hair falling, her body shriveling and the illusion came off. Everyone shows their true face before death. In the end her eyes had vaporized and her open mouth was charred black.

Looking at the corpse one final time before leaving the monk muttered:[color=9e0b0f]"Your Judgement on this world has passed."[/color]

Now he was atop the highest structure in the arena, the final match already having started. The winner of the previous match, the orc, versus a Brith, a tiger warrior as large as the orc but a lot more feral. He spotted Dante from his vantage point still where he had left him. He couldn't shake the feeling that something was amiss. For now he would wait until Dante made his departure to make his move.