[center][h1]The Sensei[/H1][/center]
[center][img]https://i.imgur.com/Flfan1p.png[/img][/center]
[center][h1]Miyama - Man-made Disaster [/h1][/center]

[quote]"[color=f26522]I like your style old man, Mind if i cut in and join in the fun?"[/color] She said with a playful smile, striking a defending pose.[color=f26522]"you're a magus aren't you?"[/color][/quote]

The question was one that had a simple answer.

“No.” he responded quite naturally as his elbow pushed a man down. To be a magus, one who chased after truth. One who reached for  「」. To be a spellcaster who used magic for a goal.

He was neither.

“I am a man who journeyed west.” His hand reached out and grabbed at the jacket of a man. Pulling about by the fabric he was used to bash into the body of another charging man. 

An amused cry came him. “I guess I grew a bit old too. But I don’t feel it.” Years of eating, fighting, learning. Those years brought him the conviction and power to stand here now as the hordes seemed to gather almost as though they were an army. Those who were defeated, those who were scared off, those who struggled again and again.

The crowds retreated at times, they surged at times. The two had become a target indeed, and in a sense they wished to see them defeated. A sunk-cost fallacy. A symbol of opposition that they wished to take down.

It was insanity, and yet all too reasonable that they continued to target the two then. 

“But I am a master.”

It was likely that with that question that she too was one, or involved with one. It was a valuable piece of information volunteered for free, so lightly, so casually, it was as though he were simply introducing himself.

“What about you?” His words floated above the chaos, spoken during the times of respite that they gained.

“I am a man, a horse. My name is Tlilpojuan. I am afraid that if you like my style... that you'll have a show of it to make even my disciple sick of it coming up."