[color=c4df9b][b]Servant Berserker, Gilles de Rais
Foreigner's Lowlands.[/b][/color][hr]

For a moment, he looked stunned, his men bursting into pools of blood, the sheer number of them bursting at the same time, turning the land into what seemed to be a lake of blood.

[color=c4df9b]"You..."[/color]

[i]An offered hand, that soldier too young to be holding a sword, the blonde maiden that lead them.[/i]

[color=c4df9b]"You you you you!"[/color]

[i]A smile, that maiden's smile, the warmth of that circle, the men that followed.[/i]

[color=c4df9b]"YOU YOU YOU! YOU DEMON! CUR! POXY FLEAS UPON THE BACKSIDE OF A DOG!"[/color] Gilles bellowed, veins popping out on his temple from sheer rage, tears streaming down his face. [color=c4df9b]"UNFORGIVABLE! SUCH VILLAINY SHALL NOT GO UNANSWERED! THE LIVES OF MY MEN SHALL BE AVENGED!"[/color]

[i]Droning, fluttering of pages, chanting deep within even as he acted.[/i]

[i][color=c4df9b][color=a2d39c]Cthugha, embrace mine skin...[/color][/color][/i]

Gilles' cloak started sporting a shining point, moving into a shining line, before flames appeared, more and more of those shining points appearing, burning away his cloak. Fire, cloaking his body in stead of the purple cloth, swirled around him, levitating him but for a few inches off the ground. A flame unnatural, even watching the cloak sent twangs of pain through one's mind, as if clawing one's very thoughts. The price of this was readily apparent, for it did not fully protect the wearer from its own effect, as it seemed to burn Gilles' skin. Though he seemed to be constantly regenerating, the pain was still there. Magic, abilities from a side almost incomprehensible, operating under a different law.

While not even close to the speed Achilles reached, Gilles was, by no means, slow, but the cloak of fire seemed to accelerate him far beyond his normal abilities as he charged screaming at the two monsters, swinging his weapon wildly.