[center][color=gray][h2][b]Scourge of God[/b][/h2][i]Just Outside Banquet of Kings, Academy[/i][/color][/center]

Altera sat atop the building and stared at the fireworks as they went off, the flag to which many heroes and kings gathered to discuss the war that lay before them. The king Timurlane demanded their heads, an unequivocal surrender in the face of the Great King of Destruction. Had Altera been in there, she would have likely laughed at the foolish man, who thought he could claim the title of "Great King of Destruction." She would have spat in his face and attacked then and there, no doubt starting a chain reaction of decadent violence that would have made this banquet a true party, something every warrior inside could have appreciated.

As Commodus entered the Academy with "Nemean Lion" in hand, Altera nodded to herself as she stood up, stretching out her arms and working out the kinks in her shoulders. [color=gray]"To prolong Destruction any further would be an affront to God. Let us begin our campaign and bring glory to the Hun!"[/color] She was of course speaking to Cordula, who had been kept at her side at all times. It would not do for some cowardly and faceless assassin to slay the girl, she was what kept Altera bound to this world after all.

A band of colors shimmers into existence within her grasp, solidifying into a mighty spear of many hues. She takes a single step back, raising the Photon Beam into the air as she takes aim, her stance impeccable as mana begins to pour out of her and condense around the spear. It is a heavy thing, filled with the souls of every Hun under her command. Their wrath, their joy, their pride, all of it wants to destroy. Destroy, destroy, destroy, every hint of civilization that offends the eyes.

[center][b][h2][color=gray]"When civilizations rise, we shall act as the Scourge of God! Rainfall Photon Beam!"[/color][/h2][/b][/center]

She steps forward and releases, firing the beam of light into the sky at speeds which offend the eyes. A boom echoes through the area, the only warning the kings would receive before her judgement rained down upon them. One spear becomes many, as a thousand javelins pierce through the first layer of Fuyuki Academy. The roof is instantly annihilated, the ground outside is peppered with a field of craters, javelins planted firmly in the middle of each. The top floor of the Academy is next to go, the roof is likely beginning to collapse on the banquet as Servants scramble to protect their Masters. There would be no escape, as the fury of the Hun army pounded away at them until there was nothing left of them but ash and bone. Each and every King, each and every hero, each and every ounce of Civilization. They must fall, they must be destroyed so that their wretched forms do not continue to offend Him.