[quote=@HiddenBlue] From the car, Jason stared at the four armed inhuman and just sighed. [color=aba000]“See Master, this is why I told you we should have sneaked instead. Now we wasted the element of surprise.”[/color] If it was up to him, Rider would have avoided all signs of trouble and just sneaked to the enemy base. But his master had to be a kid and want some action. Oh well, great deeds are indeed the measure of a hero. If he had to be honest that way his master acted, both helping and hindering at different times- that reminded him of someone. His relationship with her had many turns, but even now he could admit that he wouldn’t have been a hero without her. That was why he placed a hand on the dark coat of his master and concentrated. In that moment, bitter memories returned. Of sweet dreams, cunning tricks and ruined endings- in the end both had been bad to each other. But that was why he still had to remember her; to not repeat those mistakes again. [color=aba000]“That’s why Master, for the rest of this night you shall be the Witch. Be cunning, be bold, and above all- win.” [/color] Having someone play her role reassured him, now if only he had his best friend too it would be like old times, or at least as close as it would get these days. Leaping out of the vehicle, Rider of Black addressed the foreign hybrids,[color=aba000] “Leave? After what you did to my future subjects? I would be a poor hero if I did that. No, we end this tonight, so bring out your servant and let’s end this.” [/color] In a flash, the mast of his ship appeared in his hands not bigger than any spear. Standing tall like a pole, the sail flowed proudly in the air, reminding all who could see of the pride of the Argonauts and their captain. [/quote] [center][img]https://i.imgur.com/9xETUaq.png[/img][/center] The witch? a witch indeed. The man who witnesses and does terrible things while knowing the path that they walk so a hero could shine greater. A magic user who looks forward to the demise and collapse of glory. To say that he was in the role of the watch was not one he would dismiss. Well, if he was told to live up to the expectations of filling in for the great witch it'd be rather difficult, but that wasn't a slight against himself or a matter of a lack of confidence. But as that burden, that role was pressed upon him he could only smile. The magical energy he drew from the land was almost intoxicating despite the pain as his circuits rotated and heated up in a way that he never would have achieved on his own. A technique to draw energy, and various ideas. He was not granted a new channel, nor did he inherit a path or knowledge. It was more like he was tracing another's work and yet... [color=fff200]"Μαρδοξ[/color]" The word twisted the air and the magical energy that was laced in it soon took form as a glass-like film that spread out from the mast of Rider. A bubble hardly ephemeral. It was a space that both defended and consecrated, washing away attacks as though it were but seafoam in comparison breaking against the bow. A space of glory, a space of heroes and adventure. Yes, it was a spell that borrowed the concept of, and in this case, married with the presence of that legendary ship. As he took his blade in hand and spoke more words of power, and messed with magical formula to improve and set upon his own gear further enchantment he looked and saw. The future, his actions, the outcomes, and the curse that he formed. [color=fff200]"Targets for extermination, Machia" [/color] He saw the flow of mana, and he could meddle with the leylines even better than he could have ever thought was possible even with the eyes he had. The conditions were set, and the battlefield became the curse of extermination. The resonance with the Actor's role, the classification of the enemy... Swiftly he cursed their enemies as he slipped out of the car. Oh you oni, you barbaric foreigners. Thy role is to be hunted down, destroyed as enemies of civilization. The Actor rushed forth, his face shifting, his stance and pose focusing into that of clearly practiced muscle. Glory and radiance akin to that of a hero eminated from him as his fists flew out- Ah, this was indeed the mighty hero, even as a mimicking shade of it... Theseus. A man who wrestled the great boars and minotaur into submission. Against him no monster could stand. A man who with his friend enacted genocide, Centauromachia. While he... The witch of treachery who would bring forth painful death unseen. The clash in battle, the dead who fell, and his own wound even augmented in wrestling with such powerful foes in getting a strike that laid him low not in body, but spirit. He saw that future, it was recorded in the writings. Synchronization of events commencing. His hand twisted into an inhuman shape. Of course he felt the pain, but it was no matter to him, it was simply the function of his arm after all. He grabbed the bubble he saw. The trading of blows, plunging his blade into the breast of a half-blood, searing away his mind even as he staggered from a not fatal but serious blow. The future seen was recorded as an event that occurred. Cause was muddled, skipped as the Avesta wrote and copied, teaching the land and world what had already happened in his eyes, in the future. The curse placed itself upon his target. Blood gushed out, and his mind was seared. He was after all struck down by the blade. Yet they had not clashed yet, they have not yet fought. But that's not true is it? In that bubble it was what happened after all. One done, three more to go. Borrowing another technique of the witch he blurred his presence with a veil of magical energy andcovered himself, becoming a ghostly shadow before splitting into two. Duplicates, fakes, blurred and obscured. But what would come of their servant? and how far would he be pushed with these borrowed abilities? Best to keep it light for now. [center][img]https://i.imgur.com/y4uFfUK.png[/img][/center] Trusting in Assassin, Lancer engaged the enemies. Just as they wove between trees, his strikes speared out with enough of a ferocity that it seemed like the woods were coming alive to punish them for their intrusion. He was not the fastest of the Knights of the Spear, but still as a servant he could hunt them down. He was not one to spend his time too idly, driven by a fervor that bordered onto mania. It was no different from last time, although it was in his opinion a more palatable situation for them to deal with. Perhaps this time it would continue without a strange and sudden end as well?