[center][h1][color=lightblue] Saber: Sigurd, the Dragon Slayer[/color][/h1][/center]

[center][i]False YGGDRASIL, Root of the Issue, Wild Lands, Western Fuyuki[/i][/center]

[hr]

He had, upon seeing his second wife standing before him, simply given her that smile and a comforting embrace. Such was his only reaction to her, that embrace of a husband he knew she long for more than anything without having to ponder on the matter. She who loved him so much as to steal him from his first, and most beloved, though tragedy has resulted from what she had done and how he'd gone along with it for her sake. Gudrun. Wielder of great magical power. His second wife. 

Regardless, the reunion was cut short, as something was on the winds, the song of the birds, the world revealing information to him about what was going on. It was a problem, and after telling his wife she was welcome to come along for this he had set off towards the Wild Lands that now replaced the destroyed parts of the city that had been affected by that supernatural storm. It hadn't been a storm to simply destroy, as he knew full well, but something to "wipe the slate clean". So it was "that" man who had done it, then. Interesting. It had extinguished the fire, but....well, beyond that wasn't a good thing for this city at large. 

So by the time he entered the Wild Lands, more was being told to him as well as other matters changed.

Ah. 

This was familiar.

And more...[i]troublesome[/i].

[center][color=crimson][b]That[/b] had been given life. The seeds had been planted, the place prepared, almost like a garden. 

[h2]A Garden of Eden, even, [i][u]a brand new world within which the light of mankind's civilization would never blossom.[/u][/i][/h2][/color][/center]

So it made sense why doing [b]"that"[/b] with his beloved armament was a bad idea in the first place. Though he had other means. Were this to spread, the scope would be.....limited if in wasn't eventually made worse by some manner. If the other servant didn't again spring into the foolishness of last night once more. Though if "he" tried to use "that" thing again, which planted the seeds for this in the first place, he would stop him. It would only get worse otherwise, perhaps.

So as he walked to the expanding forest's center, Sigurd drew runes upon the trees and ground as he passed, around foliage and about where the blaze would best spread. Fire. Each rune began to set things ablaze, to burn down this facet of a world long passed at rapid speeds with so many runes being drawn. This life didn't belong here, as much as it sought to thrive regardless in this special circumstance that had given it the chance to spring to life like a cancer. Such it was in the eyes of this age, but not perhaps in the eyes of the world and those who came from the same sort of time. As a hero, he could not let this stand, especially as one who had saved mankind and to save those around him whether they like it or not.  

Though regardless of his own opinions he was a hero, and this was his work. Whomever had survived that storm, those he had helped even, should not have to lose all of their home again. 

Flames burning about him, spreading like supernaturally fast wildfire as they liked at the wood and branch and such around, Sigurd finally made his way into the center of this New Old World that seemed to have started growing. Ah. That boy. So it seemed...yes, that made sense. He was inconsequential right now, but this "thing" wasn't. 

Sigurd began to walk around the base of this forest's beating heart, drawing the same runes upon it that began to set it ablaze. Fire, purifying fire to commit the ultimate sacrilege against this nature. To burn the land back down now that the people were gone, and allow them to reclaim. Runes, runes, combinations of runes to spread the blaze fast and devastatingly. Spread them about the forest on the way here and upon this tree...this being whose nature was all too familiar to the blade he possessed. Of course he wouldn't be using the blade for this, too dangerous you see. 

But he could burn, and dig up the base of this thing. So after setting it ablaze he would begin to quickly dig it up with his own two hands to remove this center of the forest, this beating, burning heart of something that had once been lost to make way for civilization. 

Yet his ability to inscribe these things so quickly, something fit more for a Caster than a Saber, and use them with such power would hopefully rend this all to ash that it might rebuild from them and breathe new life into this city of man. 

[center][b][color=gold]Glow red, oh flames that would eat at the sky,[/color]

[color=orange]Pierce into the think of life's cradle, oh children of the sun's flames,[/color]

[color=red]Devour this place, sate your thirst upon its branches and boughs,[/color]

[color=yellow]The old world does not belong in the new, just as the new world does not belong in the old,[/color]

[color=gray]Render all to ashes, down to the roots even, and upheave this cancer that has sprung up upon the land,[/color]

[h2][color=crimson][u][i]May the flames cleanse the ground, send their last offerings to the sky, to show the gods we will not settle for half-baked mockeries of their works, and that mankind will not regress into what once was.[/i][/u][/color][/h2]
[/b][/center]

[@Art of Fun][@Red Alice]