Even as his pillars of sand crumbled beneath the fury of the Ash God's Explosive Cinders, Bert seemed comparatively unfazed. While a wild look remained burning in his eyes, as of one unfortunate enough to glimpse the deeper, terrifying mysteries of this world, the rest of him had steeled itself with an odd resolve. Death, it seemed, sobered the lunatic greatly; he would face his perceived archenemy, the monster responsible for the annihilation of his every friend, with a warrior's dignity. The appearance of Lucas at Nolan's side had initially deepened his depression, but in the end it didn't matter how many forms his amorphous enemy took if it spelled his doom regardless. All that was left was the fight. It didn't take a fully lucid mind to fight with uncanny strength, for in the course of his mastery of the desert sand Bert Cunningham had transformed technique into instinct. Sand Eulogy, slow and obvious, was for him a testing move.
The distance between the sand wizard and Nolan allowed him to view the Phoenix Winger's approach despite his speed. Bert set a foot backward, a single hand extended downward in knife position and the other chambered, bent, with the elbow up by his ear—the Shifter's Stance, able to assume offense or defensive position at a moment's notice. Still, whether by a hindering flare of madness or some other disadvantage, Bert did not properly gauge Nolan's proximity, or else respond quickly enough, for no magical defense had been conjured before Kaso cut into his side.
Bert gasped and, spurred by the pain, pushed the chambered hand downward in a knife-motion. Sand whirled through the air to shape itself into a bladelike protrusion covering the arm, and Bert shoved the blade away before it could cut any deeper. Red blood spurted from the wound to dribble through the wizard's clothes and spatter onto the sand.
“Sand Rebellion,” he intoned again, this time around himself, to discourage Nolan coming nearer. When the resulting explosion cleared, he stood a few meters farther away, the wound just below his ribs blanketed in sand.
“Nearly...had me. But no monster's gonna have an easy time of old Kalahari Bert...not in my territory.” He resumed his stance, shouting,
“Kalahari Secret Move: Desert Kingdom!”The earth itself heeded the sand wizard's words, rumbling and rising. Walls of sand erected themselves from the shapeless dunes, chiseled into ramparts and battlements. Bert himself stood upon a rising tower, one that loomed thirty feet in the air, but six identical replicas of said tower lay at even intervals along what was now a literal sand castle.
“And...Sand Tumult!” Between the edifices he'd crafted from the beige powder sea, the ground began to churn. Infused with chaos, the open sand swirled and sank, creating a mire of sinkholes ready to trap any members of team Powder Keg that were careless enough to try traversing the Desert Kingdom on foot.
“Come on then, monster! I'll show you what Magnum Hound's S-class can do!”Until now, Fleo's attention had been devoted solely to trying to keep the horses in check, but the sight of the sands themselves twisted and forming themselves to Bert's command convinced the horses that their best chances of survival lay elsewhere. Rearing back, they threw Amaya and Fleo to the ground before bolting. With a merry expression not much altered despite a healthy carpet of sand, Fleo jumped to her feet, shook her head clean, and willed a Sirocco into existence.
“Alright, party's started! Good luck, buddies!” Buoyed on that carpet of dust, she sailed over Bert's Sand Tumult, dodging between towers and walls until Bert's bastion lay just ahead.
“Funjin Bakuhatsu!” Three dust bombs materialized as she jumped, which she hurled at Bert. The sand wizard, however, was ready. Throwing one of his hands sideways, he chanted,
“Sidewinder!” and a snakelike column of sand arced in from the side, spearing through the bombs and causing them to explode harmlessly in the air. Bert swept his fist the other way, and the sand column twisted around, smacking Fleo and throwing her off to the side. She managed to yell,
“I'm okay!” before she rammed straight into a sand tower, sticking in halfway in a comical manner totally unsuited to the current situation.
Bert moved his hand yet again, and the sidewinder veered toward the next closest person—Lucas.
-=-=-
Nero – Balsam Village
Nero rebutted earnestly, secretly bemoaning the fact that everyone seemed suspect of his gifts. Surely they didn't know that after the magic power 'high' he'd give, there'd be a 'low'? Ah, well. Any further coaxing on Nero's part fell away as its intended subject collapsed abruptly to the floor, taking on an extremely sick pallor.
I didn't do that, did I? He glanced at Trinity, wondering if she'd accuse him. It seemed, however, that the minstrel -beyond a worried look- wasn't too concerned with the man. Regardless, Nero never planned to show his full hand. Hell, even he didn't know the full extent of what he could do, particularly if his session with Jamie had made the Law of Manifestation operational.
Sasha's pleas, however cute her face when distressed, did not guarantee much help from Nero.
“Uh, don't know what I can do. Got my MD from clown college. Heh heh. Er, sorry.” Nero rubbed his head dolefully, his everpresent smile less garrulous with eyebrows upturned in sympathy. Of all people, Prince came to the rescue, proving to a grudging Nero that perhaps he had a purpose after all.
“Galuna? That a place or a business?” More interesting than the origin of the toxin, however, was Prince's ability to detect from mere order where the venom had been administered. An idea struck him, one too fun for proper consideration to be given for consequences.
“Hey, if it was the train, it was probably Shujin. Nobody else came close to us. What a mean trick!”
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