Built Complex

**Users Involved:** User:EmperorSigma, User:Arukana
**Date Started:** November 27, X943
**Setting:** Stanmore City, Jadna Town
**Characters Involved**:
* **Present**: Rhys, Draven, Marth Silvamillion, Asta Gustavon, Lamaria Ketchum, Connor Alton, Donnell Draconus, Ezra Beelzegan
* **Mentioned**: August Draconus, Tianna Draconus

## Sky Fall

Winter filled the skies of Stanmore City as the cold breeze and light snow showered the city. It was that time of the year, the time where the city had been it's most cheerful and celebratory. Flashing lights were all around the city, blinking a specific pattern, yet the same three colors were prominent: red, green, and white. This was the time of the holidays and Stanmore as a whole loved being in the spirit.

Children flocked at the grand park of the city. It was a place of relaxation for most parents, they had no need to watch their children personally and was some times seen as a break. In the eighty-five years of Stanmore's prosperity, there had never been an accident with any children on the park and was rated 10/10 on the safety scale.

Among the playing children and resting parents, a boy sat on the swing of the park. Unlike everyone else he was alone and the way he looked, had that fact written all over him. The children and their parents were all covered with nice thick warm jackets that protected them from the low temperatures of nature. This boy, however, lacked any protection against the wind. He wore a plain white t-shirt and a pair of jeans.

He looked to the children and nodded before lifting himself up from the swing and walking away from the group. Strolling down the sidewalk, he blew his breath into his hands while rubbing them together in attempts to stay warm. He walked for two hours until he had found himself in a small outside town of the region, talking up shelter into one of the abandoned houses.

Sitting against the wall of the house, he shivered. Eyes closing, he leaned up further against the wall and sank into his thoughts. *"What is this?"* He asked, rubbing the side of his arms. *"I've run from city to city, cold and almost completely hungry. All I've done to get buy is rob people until I'm finally able to get enough to pay for a hotel."* Sighing, a cloud of white smoke escaped his mouth and nostrils. *"Is this how a god is intended to live?"*

Opening his eyes he glared, his crimson gaze dancing through the cold night until he stood to his feet. Exiting the building, he pushed the wall down making his appearance whole to all the people who gathered in the small town.

The sudden destruction attracted the attention of all the townsfolk; adult and children alike. He had a look in his eye. That type of look that made the townsfolk gather their small ones and tuck them tight while simultaneously keeping their distance away from him.

"W-Who the hell are you? Why are you in our town!" An elder man asked, holding a wooden two by four in his grip.

The young man recreated his glare. His eyes looked over the entire population before locking themselves onto the man who questioned him. "You askin' me why I'm here?" He responded with a question of his own. "Mortals askin' gods questions, where have you left me, mother?" Scoffing, he didn't have time to go into more thought. "I am Rhys! You are gonna bow down to me and beg for my merciful hand!"

The old man, cursed at Rhys. "Get the hell out of here kid! We don't want you people around here!" He shouted, lifting a rock from the ground and throwing it at Rhys. Just as the elder man had begun throwing his rock, the rest of the people agreed with subtle "Yeah!"s and threw their own pebbles at him.

Without even flinching, Rhys took the beginning wave of the rocks. Some landing at his body while the rare few managed to strike him in the face. Brows burrowing, Rhys lifted his left hand and a gust of wind pushed against him but behind the townsfolk. Along with this breeze, the elder man who started this rally was pushed towards Rhys. It was as if Rhys had the ability to control magnetic forces the way the man's face connected with Rhys' palm.

"No! No! Please don't do this!!" The man begging, legs kicking as he tried to free himself of Rhys' grip.

"Let go of Fekner!" The folks shouted.

With a menacing frown, Rhys squeezed his face tighter. "If you want to beg to a god. You do so by gettin' on your knees and eating the dirt!" As though he were nothing but a rag doll, Rhys swung that man's body downward, slamming him into the snow painted ground created a small crater where he left the man.

The young man placed his shoe over Fekner's head, pushing down on it so that his face could eat the dirt as he suggested a moment ago. "Imma start by claimin' this town as my own. If any of you want to test me then step forward. If not, hold your peace and prepare a meal for me."

"I'll step up to the plate, you sack of trash." The voice of a young man called out as the citizen's attention turned towards the one who was brave enough to challenge Rhys. The crowd began to part as a black-haired man walked towards Rhys as with each step he took, a trail of dark energy was left behind in his footprints. Stopping just before the dark-skinned trespasser, he frowned as he looked at Rhys up and down before finally responding. "You sure as hell aren't going to be claiming this place from these people."

The citizens sighed in relief, feeling joy and safety at the sight of their dark-robbed hero who arrived to stop this dark-skinned beast. However, that hope was quickly crushed like a white man's commitment to stop being racist by the next words out of his mouth. "After all, this is going to be **my** town! So says I, Draven!"

Foot still on Fekner's head, Rhys turned to look towards Draven. There was silence. Not only had Rhys paused, but the rest of the townsfolk as well. Dark energy trailed this man and Rhys tried following it in attempts to pick up on its base.

Rhys prepared himself to speak, though just before he did, he spat to his side. "The nerve of you people. You all speak so casually as if you have the right!" He twirling his foot so that he could dig Fekner's face into the dirt even further. "Not only that, but you come to try and claim somethin' I'm already claimin'!" Rhys smiled and wide grin, showing his back left teeth to the rest of the people and even Draven.

"I'll use your blood as retribution for your sins!" He claimed, wind gathering and pushing from around him. Though it seemed wild and rowdy at first, it appeared as though he commanded the force himself and pushed it all towards Draven in the form of a compressed shot that would swallow and blow Draven away.

As the bullet of compressed air rushed towards Draven with the intention of blowing him away, he displayed no sign of worry. Instead, a smirk spread across his face as the sclera of his eyes turned a sinister shade of black and his iris changed from a dull gray into a dark blue before he whispered softly. "....*Arise*."

The snow-covered ground trembled as a claw-like hand forged from darkness sprouted from the ground, backhanding Rhys's projectile like it was a mere pebble. Another hand sprouted as the ground began to tear as numerous other claw-like hands began to shot out and pull themselves out of the ground. Within a matter of moments, there was a horde of shadowy knights standing between Draven and Rhys. Armed to the teeth with weapons ranging from swords to bows, the energy emitting from these beings was a feeling that these civilians had felt before in their life. It was the feeling of *Death*.

"I see you've met my crew. Allow me to properly introduce myself. I am Draven the Heartless and the leader of the Dark Heart Bandits." Draven declared as his knights readied their weapons as they focused solely on Rhys. "I'll be sure to add you to my crew once you perish." With his piece said, Draven gave the mental command for his knights to attack Rhys.

Following the will of their master, three of the Dark Knights rushed forward as two of them rose their swords to perform a cross slash aimed towards Rhy's chest as the last knight prepared his spear in order to follow up with a powerful thrust with the intention of skewering him.

Grin still present, Rhys remained stationary as the true Draven *revealed* himself whilst also summoning an army of dark soldiers to fight in his stead. A crew of knights stood armed and ready to bend to Draven's whim and orders as though he had them wrapped under some sort of mind control spell.

Again, he kept his food resting on Fekner's head. He began to accumulate mana in his stomach, though before he could fully do it to the point of forming what seemed to be a spell, Rhys had been attacked by the trio of Shadow Knights. Unaware of Draven's true plan, he knew for a fact that his opponent planned to attack him with each of the summoned knights. And as he thought, Draven did. Two of the knights acted first. The sword wielders sought to cut him in a crossing manner and due to his lack of preparation and such a small window, he had not been able to do the spell he intended to do so. But to be honest, he didn't need it.

Lifting his right hand, he simply swung in a slapping manner releasing a force of wind that would sweep the trio of knights off their feet and blow them far away. By extension, he also managed to blow away a few of the other soldiers within the range of the blast as though it were nothing. Grin growing wider, he lowered his gaze at Draven. "With just a swipe of my handIs this what you people call "true magic"? There's just no way. Then, please. Allow me to show you the true magic of someone from a higher plain."

Breathing in, Rhys' stomach increased in size as though he had drunk or eaten a lot of stuff. With an exhale, Rhys released a powerful blast of black tinted wind that dwarfed his earlier attacks blowing the entire army of shadow beings away and ultimately heading towards Draven with that same intention. Though, as mentioned, this attack was much stronger than earlier and packed a "different" kind of punch to it. Have Draven not chose to do anything about it, he'd be hit with a direct tornado that would swallow him up and throw him away right after inflicting damage.

Draven's smirk turned into a frown at the sight of his knights being decimated with ease. He hadn't anticipated on Rhy's Wind Magic being strong enough to take out a Dark Knight, let alone an entire horde of them. However, given the black coloring of his wind, it was obvious his foe's malicious heart had corrupted and inadvertently strengthened his Magic. However, he was undeterred by this revelation — in fact, he couldn't help but feel excited! He hadn't had fun like this in a long time.

With his grin now back on his face, Draven reeled his hand back before thrusting it towards the ground in front of him as a geyser of dark energy erupted with great force. The large blast of black-tinted wind collied with the dark energy pillar as they fought for dominance. However, in the end, Rhys's attack won out as it overwhelmed Draven's defense. Luckily, the bandit leader managed to maneuver out of the path of the attack as it slammed into a nearby house, demolishing it with little effort.

"Come forth from the darkness..." Draven chanted as his dark aura grew in size, the ground shuttered beneath him once more before another hand sprouted from below. However, this limb was noticeably larger when compared to the knights he had summoned previously. As another hand shoot out of the ground, the being pulled itself out of the ground to reveal it was a large ogre shrouded in shadows as the feeling of death emitted from the creature. "Shadow Ogre."

"▂▂▂▂▃▃▃▃▅▅!" The ogre roared as the nearby citizens covered their ears at the sheer volume before the creature rushed forward like a berserker, intending on slamming its body directly into Rhys and flattening him.

The ogre stood over Rhys, like a Titan looking down to mortal. Just a presence alone was terrifying, the amount of magic energy leaking from his body gave pressure to the surrounding area on its own. The ground cracked under the Ogre's power and the townsfolk around dropped to their knees. They were all hopeless and had no faith in the situation. The town leader had been defeated by a young man who claimed to be taking over their home, only to have another appear with an army of his own.

Even against the monstrous being, Rhys did not waver. The same was said for his grin. With each step, the ground shook like a mini quake as it rushed towards Rhys. Cuffing his hands, a black tint of energy billowed from his body like a ceiling fan on maximum power. Lifting his foot from Fekner's head, Rhys rose into the air achieving a form of flight.

With a simple maneuver, Rhys was able to dodge the incoming Ogre floating to the beast's side. Stationing himself, he lifted his hand and released another burst of wind in a repulsive manner but he aimed it towards the Ogre's legs in efforts to sweep it and stop it from falling on top of the townsfolk and numbered houses, by instead forcing it to fall on its side. But his assault didn't stop just there.

Soaring through the skies, Rhys made his way towards the source of the Ogre's magic--Draven. Inhaling once more, Rhys locked his eyes onto his target to ensure he had a clear enough shot. Just like last time, Rhys released a blast of pressurized air from his mouth that had been set to engulf Draven.

Draven kept his eye on Rhys, his grin widening even at the sight of the blast of pressurized air barreling towards him. Instead of attempting to dodge the projectile, he focused the dark energy into his hands as it formed into a set of gauntlets and crossed arms to guard against the incoming attack. The pressurized air devoured Draven, resulting in his legs bucking under the sheer power of the attack and the sharp winds slicing him across his body as well. It was only thanks due to his above-average physical condition he was able to withstand Rhys's attack.

Tensing the muscles within his legs, he pushed off of the ground and soared through the air towards Rhys as he raised his gauntlet-covered fist in order to slam it into Rhys's face to spike him directly towards the ground.

However, it didn't end there as the Shadow Ogre who had been knocked over on his side as a result of Rhys's earlier maneuver had pushed itself back up and roared in rage, ripping out a nearby tree of the ground and threw it directly towards Rhys with the intention of bludgeoning him from behind.

Suppressing his magic so the duo could not sense him, a man remained hidden from the shadows as he watched their skirmish unfold. He waited for his own opportunity to strike.

## Cry in the Wind

Hand pulling back, Rhys had prepared himself to take on Draven's strike head-on. Black tinted wind gathered around his fist before spreading out and growing much larger shaping itself into an oversized fist that if it had been clad in the skin would easily be compared to that of a titan. Thrusting forward, he sent the giant wind fist at the incoming Draven like it were a projectile whilst remaining in his previous position. "You can't stand up to me!" Rhys began, "I will show you the difference in the magic from a god!" This attack had it connected or even been clashed against, would wrap around Draven swallowing him and spinning him in a rampaging circle as it would explode into a violent tornado. The wind would compress into small blades formed into the fist, tens, no hundreds were ready to cut Draven up.

It seemed Rhys had managed to launch an attack at Draven without needing to move successfully. Yet, that would have been a big mistake. Because he decided not to move, it left him in the place of where the Ogre had been aiming the tree to which Rhys found himself struck from the rear. Like a ball being hit by a five-star batter, Rhys flew through the sky crashing into the ground leaving a crater where he laid.

Draven's eyes widen at the sudden projectile unleashed by Rhys as he was unable to properly dodge or even blocks he was within the air. Deciding to continue through with his previous action, he slammed his dark energy gauntlet into the giant wind fist as he quickly found himself overwhelmed by the power behind the spell. He was soon engulfed within a violent tornado as he was sent into a spiral and found his body riddled with numerous cuts across his body before he slammed into the ground, leaving a crater in his wake.

"You sack of garbage, how dare you!" Draven screamed as he struggled to himself out of the crater, briefly falling to his knees as he stood up before standing up once more. He gripped his head as he attempted to stop the constant spinning of his vision. He didn't expect such strength from a nobody with a god complex, even if his negative emotions had strengthened his Magic. "Just who or what the hell are you?! There is no way you are a simple Wind Mage could be this strong!"

The debris settled following the crashing of Draven. Much like Draven, he stood to his feet but with less struggle. Scars and bruises were present all over his body, each of them unique from the other from the impact of colliding with the ground and being hit by a literal moving tree.

Rhys began to breathe heavy within his crater before he placed his palms against the ground and lifted himself to his feet. Fangs bared, he looked to the side where Draven landed with an intense glare. His hair laid over his face, but his crimson gaze still managed to stand out. A slight gust of wind blew past Rhys before his body lit up green signifying he had been surrounded by some sort of aura. Taking steps towards Draven the young mage cracked his neck, making his appearance more visible to those around.

The aura surrounding his body would begin to fade like a mist and as it would his wounds and scars would begin to close and heal, though his clothes remained torn. What was the reasoning behind this? Was it some sort of third-party aiding Rhys with this? Was he some sort of unestablished medic? Or had his magic been more than just some sort of basic wind manipulation as Draven thought?

He now stood in front of Draven, fangs still showing and his body completely healed as though he had taken no damage. "You could never compare my magic to the one used by these people." He scoffed, suggesting that he was much more superior and after his demonstrations, he had every reason to feel that way. That and his big wanker ego.

"My magic ain't *just* wind magic. You people worship us at your lowest hour or as a means to supply continue providing good fortune. My magic is levels beyond what you assume." Pointing his finger at his self, he dropped to one knee and grabbed a hand full of Draven's hair with his palm, tilting his head back. "Fate ain't on your side, today. I'm a God Slayer and I use Wind God Slayer Magic." Lifting his knee, Rhys pulled Draven's face up to his knee driving it right in the center pushing him back with a burst of wind into an array of lined trees.

Lips spreading apart, Rhys began to suck up the air as though it was just a drink in a cup. Grinning, he slapped his hand down to his side and cuffed his other hand around his mouth. "**Wind God's Bellow**!" he shouted, releasing a massive black air stream towards Draven.

Draven's eyes widen at hearing the true nature of Rhys's magic, being shaken to the very core. He had heard about God Slayer Magic, a Caster-type Lost Magic capable of stripping the divine power away from Gods. He had heard it as a legend, a fable, a joke. After all, who would expect such a Magic to truly exist? It was beyond ridiculous to think a Magic was capable of taking away the power of a God. Yet before him stood someone who claimed to have the power to do so as he was soon swallowed by the destructive wave of dark wind, engulfed like a leaf within a storm.

As Draven was assaulted from every possible angle, he felt his anger began to fester and grow. Rhys's had been toying with him for their entire battle. Whereas Draven had been fighting with all of his might, Rhys had only now just used a spell on him. He had been made out as a fool! He would destroy Rhys here and now, no matter the cost to himself. As these thoughts echoed in his mind, the black of Draven's sclera began to slowly spread as it enveloped his iris and pupil before he spoke in a soft voice. "*Come to me...*"

Despite how quiet his words were, it echoed through the area as the remains of his Dark Knights began to arise from their spot on the ground and moved directly towards Draven's location. The very same occurred for the Shadow Ogre as it shot off towards Draven as well. One by one, they each began to travel into Draven's body. No, that wasn't an accurate statement. They traveled into Draven's *soul* as Draven's skin began to turn as black as the darkness of the night sky had permeated his skin.

As the last being entered his body, an explosion of dark energy escaped Draven's body as it overwhelmed Rhys's Bellow, forcing it to disperse prematurely. Within the dust, Rhys had a clear visual of Draven's silhouette as he appeared to be still standing despite having taken such a powerful blow. However, as the dust settled, it was obvious that Draven had pulled out his last resort. His entire body was black as if he had been swallowed by darkness. The aura exuded from him was unnatural. Whatever he had done, it was clear he shouldn't have.

"I'll end you..." Draven whispered softly, raising his head to reveal his yellow eyes to Rhys. He kicked off of the ground, destroying the street below him as he rocketed towards the God Slayer at incredible speed, surpassing his earlier movement as he reeled his fist back to smash directly into his foe. "I'll end you!"

Shadows drew to Draven like souls being extracted from humans. Though he had no prior knowledge of this, the shadow knights that he extracted slowly began to increase his magical power and once the final knight entered an explosion occurred. A dark burst of magic covered the landscape like a larger shadow in efforts to overwhelm Rhys' own attack to which it did.

With both opposing forces colliding, Draven's was enough to completely nullify and disperse Rhys' own. The dark skin boy twitched and grimaced as he balled his fists and held them tightly. He shook and trembled as though he had been terrified, but of what exactly? Was it the fact that Draven's magic had proved to be much more than he gave it credit for? Had the pressure began to generate anxiety? Or was it simply because Rhys had been out of any extra tricks for this battle?

*"How?"* Rhys asked himself still shaking. Flashes of his childhood skipped into his memory, but the flashes were so fast that they were like silhouettes to him. Bits of pieces could be put together. He was a pampered child being taught with elegance and even spoon food as though he were a prince. As seconds passed, Rhys' frown did as well. His eyebrows clashed with one another while his grin grew wider but more devious. His anger rose like a flower growing for from a seedling and that was all emphasized by his growing fangs at the back of his teeth.

"How is such measly magic able to even withstand mine!" Billows of wind blew from his body through his pores. Sweat protruding from the same holes he'd been blowing wind. As Draven stood to his feet, Rhys bent his knee and the wind blowing from his body shifted into the palm of his cuffed hand.

Planting his feet into the ground with all of his weight, he mentally ordered the wind to throw him forward to meet Draven head-on. The wind that gathered in the palm of his hand formed into a transparent sphere that rotated. Pushing his arm forward to meet Draven's fist, Rhys frowned further while shouting. "**Wind God's Sphere**!" A spell, that upon contact, would dissipate before exploding taking Draven's fist with him.

As soon as Rhys’s wind-enhanced fist made contact with Draven’s savage strike, a violent whirlwind consumed Draven as he was sent flying back before he skipped like a stone across the street. As the bandit unceremoniously skidded down the street, he thrust his hand into the ground, digging up the cobblestone street and eventually came to a halt as he stood properly. As he moved his head to stare at the God Slayer before him, his attention was drawn to his arm-more so, what remained of the limb. It was clear his arm had been completely destroyed as a result of his collision with Rhys’s spell.

Draven glared at the Rhys with unrestrained hatred and frustration as his yellow eyes glowed. At every opportunity, this God Slayer continued to counter his actions with ease. Like it was a joke! He was D̵͔̈r̶̪̮̤̐̐͝á̶̤̟̉͝v̷̨̱̱̿͌e̸̦͓̐͌ǹ̷̖̬͒, the leader of the Black Heart Bandits! He would win and take this fool’s heart! The darkness of the soul would conquer over all!

Thrusting his hand forward, D̵͔̈r̶̪̮̤̐̐͝á̶̤̟̉͝v̷̨̱̱̿͌e̸̦͓̐͌ǹ̷̖̬͒ gathered the dark energy within his palm and compressed it down to the point where it was the size of a softball. Aiming directly towards Rhys, he unleashed it as a wave of death and destruction was sent forth, tearing through the ground and decimating all within its path. It would surely place Rhys into critical condition if he was hit.

"Tch," Rhys began, spreading his feet apart and lowering his stance as he prepared to take on Draven's strike head-on. He saw the destruction the spell left in its wake, but he refused to back down. That's just the type of person he was and his ego had built. Arms extending outward, he released his black-tinted wind which mixed itself with the preexisting breeze commanding it to gather and blow around his body in a layer.

Grinning, Rhys braced himself for impact and once the ball of dark energy rushed towards him two shadowy-wind-like appendages appeared gripping the ball in attempts to hold it back. It was an uncanny struggle. Neither force wanted to give up, though because Rhys had to fend it off with virtually his own strength and the fact that ball had been composed of destructive forces it began to chip off at the God Slayer.

The ponytailed man hiding within the shadows continued to watch the battle. While those two exchanged blows, they hadn't even noticed that he rescued all of the townsfolk and moved them to a safe location and he now could watch without any worries. "Why didn't the kid just use his slayer magic rather than combining it with the natural wind? He'd have surely been able to deflect it. Now I can only wonder how he'll go about continuing on."

Hand stroking his chin, the man smiled. "Regardless, the magic displayed by both of them is certainly unique! But I've already decided on what I'll be doing."

Teeth transition to a grit, Rhys continued his efforts at holding the dark spell back until finally, he gave in. But this was essential if he wanted to escape this attack with his life. At the last moment, right before the ball would collide with his being, he would redirect the appendages and extra wind around to flick to sphere aside rolling across his chest before bouncing to the town and destroying it.

Chest and front injured heavily, Rhys dropped to his knee using his hand to hold him up with heavy pants. "Hmph, I-I, I'll kill you!"

"▂▂▂▂▃▃▃▃▅▅!" Rhy's threats were only met with the wordless roaring of the D̵͔̈r̶̪̮̤̐̐͝á̶̤̟̉͝v̷̨̱̱̿͌e̸̦͓̐͌ǹ̷̖̬͒ as the dark energy continued to cover his body within an overwhelming aura. Suddenly, he grabbed his head as pain shot through his head like a bullet being shot directly into his face. His mind was being flooded with the voices and memories which didn't belong to him. He could see hundreds of lives flashing before his eyes as he screamed aloud in pain. Why was this happening?! What were these memories?! WHO WERE THESE PEOPLE?!

It was at that moment D̵͔̈r̶̪̮̤̐̐͝á̶̤̟̉͝v̷̨̱̱̿͌e̸̦͓̐͌ǹ̷̖̬͒ noticed a common factor within these memories. Towards the end of their lives, he was able to see Draven standing before them before being killed. Wait, that was him, wasn't he? Yes, he was...who was he? So many memories. So many voices. So many souls. Trapped within one body.

It struggled to recall something. Anything!

What was its name?

What was its purpose?!

WHY WAS IT HERE?!

"WHO AM I?!" The being screamed aloud as its aura increased in power. The souls of the various people Draven had taken within his body had overridden his identity. He was the cumulation of the various souls he had fused into his own. This was the price for breaking the Taboo of Shade. To call him human now would be inaccurate. He was but a beast who fractured his own soul and fused it with others.

How foolish.

Pushing himself from his knee, Rhys frowned upside down as Draven changed to his new form. A colossal beast of shadows that gave a visible shadow to the surrounding area. It was nothing like Rhys had seen face to face before, at least not in the manner to which he would be the one to have to deal with it.

The man who hid in the shadows remained stationary. But it took every fiber within his body to do so. "I should really step in. His magic, its gotta be a taboo of it. That Draven boy will certainly tarnish himself if I let this continue on further." The ponytailed man bit his bottom lip before forming a smile, "But I feel the ending will be a lot more entertaining and I'll be able to see much more of I stay out the way!"

"I didn't ask a question of you!" Rhys shouted back, now standing back up. "You take up such a monstrous form in the face of your maker, yet you have no control over your magic!" He screamed again, saliva gliding from his mouth. "Once a mortal is injured, the healing process takes time and they have the worst control over their magic!" Rhys' eyes began to change from circular iris to vertical ones before becoming completely black.

Once again, wind bellowed from his body before it became shrouded in a green aura. As the moments passed, his scars and bruises began to heal themselves just like before. With an open mouth, he began to eat the wind around until he found himself at a state of satisfaction.

Voice much deeper and almost reverberant, Rhys stated, "I'm gonna send you straight to hell with this next attack." Holding both of his hands out, one on each side, Rhys generated his signature blank-tinted winds once more. Once there was enough, he brought both palms in front of himself and slammed them together, connecting them before opening like a beasts' mouth.

"**Wind God's Blast**!" He called out the technique, releasing a compressed beam of wind in a straight line to the being's middle section. His idea, while not the most complex, was the use the potential low speed and maneuverability of the being against itself and blow a hole right through it, potentially ending the fight right then and there. However, only time would tell if he would come out successful.

The creature with no name stood there as it gripped its head tightly, roaring in rage and despair as it tried to figure out who or what it was. However, this series of thoughts were interrupted by the beam of compressed air tearing through its midsection like a sharp knife through paper. However, it didn't cry out in pain as the black energy exuding from its body began to fill up the hole. The same began to happen to its arm as it began to reform as though it had never been destroyed as it tightened its fist firmly in anger.

Nonetheless, the creature's attention was now focused on Rhys as it dashed forth with a surprising amount of speed for a being its size and conjured to spheres of dark energy within its hand. With a powerful roar, it thrust the sphere forward and attempted to slam them directly into the body of the God Slayer before it as a form of retaliation.

Hands lifting, Rhys latched his magic power onto the preexisting air while simultaneously pushing it upwards into a whirlwind. Though, there was much more than just creating a whirlwind for the purpose of a later attack. No, what Rhys had been actually doing was changing the trajectory of the being's sphere attacks, throwing them up into the air causing them to miss him completely as though he were the one who had been responsible for their creation.

Instead of throwing Draven's attack away, Rhys decided to use the spheres for his own spell. Gathering wind at his feet, Rhys pushed himself up into the air above Draven's new form whilst simultaneously consuming the air around. His stomach expended like a balloon being filled with helium.

*"There's only one way to end this. I've gotta use her technique."* He thought to himself, keeping his hands held up to maintain control over the preexisting air. From his mouth, Rhys released an unimaginable amount of white-tinted air in the form of a giant wave that had been occupied by a wave of compressed wind blades. But this wind was much different from anything Rhys had summoned before.

Aside from its white-tint it roared and screeched as though it were a sentient being. The ground shook slightly as houses and trees lifted from their roots and frames spiraling upward mixing into his wave and tornado he created earlier to divert Draven's attack. The side of high-speed wind covered the area. Loud thumps smashing against the eardrums of whatever was within its range. Directing his hand towards Draven, Rhys shouted, "**God Slayer's Secret Art: Kamikaze**!" sending the wind tsunami laced with wind blades, destroyed houses, ripped trees, and even Draven's own spells right back at Draven.

The sheer force of the technique ripped and shredded everything within its wake as it raced towards Draven. Its size was at least two times his new form. Dropping back to the ground, Rhys stood--but barely--panting heavily as he tried to regather his breath. In his mind, this attack would do more than enough. It would shred, crush, and throw Draven and his new form across the map far away... if it hit.

Standing in defiance, the dark creature was undeterred at the sight of its Magic being overwhelmed by Rhys's own spell. As the wind tsunami came closer with each passing moment, a single thought echoed through its mind, as though the hundreds of souls within its body had come to an agreement.

*"Win."*

Hearing the sound of so many people speak such a simple word resonated within the creature as its body tensed in preparation as it willed its Magic to come forth, surrounding the creature within a barrier of dark energy before it leaped towards Rhys with the intention of plunging through the devastating spell to reach him.

As soon as it collided with the powerful storm, it found its movement to be halted as it could no longer progress forward despite struggling to do so. Instead, it found itself being pushed back slowly but surely as the technique of a God Slayer was winning between the two. The creature roared in frustration and rage as it attempted to push beyond its limits and reach Rhys. However, it was for naught as multiple cracks began to form throughout the barrier until it shattered like glass. The creature watched in shock as it was devoured by the violent storm, feeling its skin slice like ribbons as it could do nothing to defend itself from the overwhelming attack it was currently receiving.

With each slice, it could feel a soul leave its body. No, that was an inaccurate statement. It could feel a soul being *killed* from within its body. The being realized that by the end of this attack, it would be no more and simply allowed Rhys's spell to run its course. As the final blades of wind rushed towards its body, the creature unconsciously spoke.

"Looks like I got cocky..." The last wind blade sliced through its head like a guillotine as it went soaring through the air and hitting the floor with a wet *thud*, blood flowing from the open wounds on the body and head.

## Come Fly With Us

As the thud sounded across the terrain, a new sensation entered Rhys' body. His vision blurred as his flesh crawled and he began to walk towards Draven. Each step more meaningful than the last has he stepped through the destroyed visage.

Once he reached Draven's side, Rhys' crimson gaze had transitioned to a bitch black screen that tinted the world around. He panted heavily, blood dripping down his skin before being soaked up by his former free white t-shirt. Bruises and scratched made up the majority of his body, yet his current rush of adrenaline allowed him to bypass its pain.

Wind formed around his hand in the shape of a drill, to which he held it pointing at the fallen Draven's back. "And with this," He began. His voice was much different from before, deeper and more overlapped. "You're life will be claimed by a god."

With that, Rhys thrust downward but before he could land the finishing blow of claiming Draven's life, a firm grip around his wrist could be felt. Lifting his head, he placed his own gaze upon the newly appearing man. It was that of the ponytailed man who'd been watching the battle all this time.

"What the hell is your problem?!" Rhys asked, bringing his other hand up and around with the intents of punching the man.

With a simple head shake and sigh, he lifted the backhand of his own free hand and swatted Rhys' wind-enhanced fist away. "I am honestly impressed by the battle between you two young mages."

"Who the hell are you?!" Rhys demanded, pulling away from the man before gathering wind around his fist once again and launching a strike for the man's face. Simultaneously, he utilized the wind drill from earlier to thrust forward at the man's chest seeking to pierce past his skin and take his life.

Eyes closing, the man pivot to the side, swatting both of Rhys' hands away before gripping his wrist once again and swinging him over his shoulder slamming him into the ground in a single motion. As he moved, his black crimson-trimmed purple-furred coat flailed in the wind, before he ultimately slammed the base of his knee into Rhys' back. "Marth Silvamillion," he said, introducing himself whilst answering Rhys' question.

"Your magic is extremely unique and you possess the ability to use it with no restraints. Though you may have initially wanted to take over this time, you were keen on protecting it from this dark mage." Marth continued on, keeping his strength into Rhys to ensure he'd remain held down.

"Draven's fate will be him being turned over to the Magic Council for his many crimes committed in the past." Pausing due to Rhys struggling to free himself, Marth applied more pressure and continued on with his statement. "But you, you can follow a much different path than the one of evil."

Roaring, Rhys squiggled and squirmed around but he saw no way to free himself. "Release me!" He demanded once more, "Are you away of the punishment for laying your hands on a god?!"

"I want you to join my guild, the Phoenix Rising guild." Marth stated, "You are not in a state to take me on, young mage. If you wish to engage in battle and go against my request, then I will defeat you here and send you to jail alongside Draven and you two can fight there for the rest of your sentence." Marth's blank expression was more emphasized than before, "You can be saved, your sins are not grave just yet."

Extending his arm out, purple and red flames formed flying across the area and wrapping around Draven like a coffin. "Your resistance has stopped. It seems you are aware of my words and have made a decision." Smiling, Marth removed his knee from Rhys' back and lifted the young mage up. "For that, I will allow you to take credit for Draven's defeat."

Head dropping, Rhys couldn't help but feel a great deal of shame as he rubbed his arm and other bruises. *"Yeah, I'll stick around for now."* He thought, *"But once the coast is clear, I'm out of here."*

"We shall be taking out leave now." Marth ended.

*Later that night...*
Within the guild building of Phoenix Rising, its many wizards gathered as they rejoiced for the fact they had gained a new member. Neither of them took the time out to speak to Rhys, but still, the celebrating as though they had just won a war.

Rhys stood before Marth. His body had been wrapped in bandages after the guild's medics had taken action in providing him with the proper care to tend to his wounds. The atmosphere was nothing Rhys had been used to. The guildhall had been too loud and there were too many people around.

Holding index finger up, Marth placed it onto the left side of Rhys' chest to which the logo of the guild appeared. "Rhys, correct?" Marth asked, "Is that all? As in no last name to go along with Rhys? It sounds rather lonely on its own."

"Yeah, so what? My mom didn't give me a last name." Rhys responding, turning his nose up at Marth before folding his arms across his chest.

"The last name is someone antique, young Rhys." Marth began, "It's something like this: my name is Marth Silvamillion, once my name is said, those who hear it will know that I am the guild master of the Phoenix Rising guild. A name, it stands for something so to speak. You don't necessarily need one, but it helps and has a nice ring to it. Have you had any ambitions of what your last name would be?"

Still turned away, Rhys began to think. His facial expression read he cared little of what Marth spoke of, but his thoughts followed a different path. "Godstream." Rhys responded softly.

Squinting his eyes and smiling gently, Marth lifted both of his hands as though he were pushing something away. "That's a bit over the top there, Rhys. How about we tone it down just a bit." Pausing, he placed his hand on his chin. "What about, Holystream?" The guild master suggested.

"Whatever," Rhys said, turning away from Marth completely before heading towards the stairway. "I'll be upstair where there's less noise. Don't call me if you need me."

"Oh! Why not come down and introduce yourself in your own way, Rhys? I simply told them your name, we know nothing about you as a person and we would surely love to." The guild master suggested.

Rhys gnarled, "No thank you, guild master. I'd like to rest."

"Then feel free to take the advancement for your pay on capturing Draven and purchasing yourself a room at the Tipton Hotel for the night or few nights until you can pay for your own permanent place of livi-" Just before he could finish his sentence, the communication lacrima sitting at Marth's side began to buzz before the face of a red-haired man appeared through it.

"Yo, Guild Master Marth!" The man said in a rather cheerful tone. "Cleared the mission much quicker than I expected, I should be back tomorrow to give you a decent debriefing.

"That's good Asta. We will be awaiting your arrival, the context of that mission is VERY important. I'd like to know everything as soon as possible if you don't mind. Plus, there's a new unique member I'd like you to meet."

Asta began to laugh, "Hahahaha, a new member? Unique? Come on Marth, did you pick up another patch of riff-raff to stain up the guild even further? I keep telling you master, leave the stray on the street or you'll infest the entire guild with their diseases. Do you see it yet? Almost every time we talk there's another and another. This time you claim he's unique? He's probably trash like the rest of 'em. That oh-so-soft heart of yours will get Phoenix Rising into deep trouble one of these days."

All while this conversation had been unfolding, Rhys had still been standing there. The words and ill-way Asta spoke reached his ears and sent his flesh crawling down his spine. "What the hell he'd say?" Rhys asked, slamming his fist into the wall while giving off an evil glare at Marth.

"Asta, quiet. We will speak further when you get here." Marth ended, disconnecting the lacrima from all communication. "Rhys, ignore Asta. He's a bit vocal, but he's one of our guild's best S-Class Mages."

Turning his back at Marth, Rhys began to head upstairs. "I can't believe you talked me into this garbage. I'll take that money now and do as you suggested. Just keep that guy away from me, or I'll kill him." Taking steps to walk up the stairs, Rhys felt a gentle tug on his wrist halting him from going up any further. Turning around, his crimson eyes met with the gentle smile of a girl--about his age--bearing his same skin tone standing there.

"Are you the new guy? Rhys, correct?" The girl asked before Rhys pulled his arm away from her. Eyebrow lifting, the young smiled even wider.

Though before she could say anything further, Rhys stopped her just as she stopped him. "What's with you people and the wrist grabbing? Unhand me or face the consequences of grasping a god."

She giggled, "You really are different like the master said. Sorry for my rudeness. The names Lamaria Ketchum!"

"I don't really care." Rhys responded, turning around to continue his journey up the stairs while completely blowing Lamaria off.

"Ugh!" Lamaria exclaimed, turning around and stomping off in the opposite direction towards the rest of the guild. Her white hair and red mini-dress bouncing about as she did. "He's so rude! That is totally not how you treat a lady!"

Marth simply smiled and squinted.

While his smile was out for everyone to see, his thoughts were running wild. *"Despite his personality, he has a wonderful skill set and deep down inside he has the will to protect his things."* Marth thought, his smile continuing to grow as he watched his partying guild. *"If we can mold and guide that in the right direction, he will be a beautiful asset to the guild and will protect it with his dying breath."* He brushed his coat off before straightening his stance and looking to the guild in its entirety. His stature shift garnered the attention of every member within the guildhall and the shouts, fighting, and even drinking halted.

"Phoenix Rising," He began, eyes falling to each member individually. "I do not do this often, but I feel for this boy it is necessary. For those who have encountered him, you know he has an overwhelming and explainable amount of rudeness within him. It is nearly impossible to even ring in a normal conversation with him. Even then, I do not want you all to give up on trying to reach out to him." Handballing up into a fist, Marth shook his head up and down.

"Connor, I'm putting you in charge of him. At least until August gets here, think you can handle that?" He asked.

Blue hair bouncing up and down, while holding a wooden cup of booze he smiled wide. "Of course Master Marth! He's one of us now right? But I do think August's own personality is gonna' conflict with his."

"You are correct, Connor. But who's best to take the stead than someone who's a bit more like him? Our goal is not to bash him and allow him to remain the way he is. We will break him down and try to reform him so that he can be reborn into a better person, for his potential goes beyond a strong S-Class Mage of the guild." Marth stopped himself, he saw it best to not go any further than what he had just said and instead smiled at his guild once again. "He, alongside the rest of you, will be the keystones for the Guild's survival."

## On the Mind

As the guild went back to their celebration, Connor and Lamaria approached Marth. Initially, he had no idea what the duo wanted, but as he looked in their eyes he picked up on their supreme urge of curiosity. With a chuckle, he let out a soft sigh and shook his head. "Connor, Lamaria, what is it?"

Hand swinging, Lamaria rolled her eyes. "Wow Master, I can't believe this." She too sighed, before pointing her finger at Connor. "I insisted we don't ask, Master. But, Connor insisted on it. He kept pushing me so I said how about we just ask Master Marth instead. Connor wants to know how'd Rhys get the scar on his neck?"

"Whaaaaaat?!" Connor shouted, turning to Lamaria to yell in her ear. "I didn't want to know that! You did! I only came because you were too scared to ask on your own. You didn't have to lie like that girl!" The blue-haired mage tried explaining himself to Marth, but he was met with the fact Marth had lifted his hand to stop him from talking.

Stroking his chin, Marth's eyebrows slanted. "You know.. that's a good question, you two. I didn't ask him that, I actually assumed it was from his battle against Draven." Marth paused, "Now that I think about it, there's no way he could have gotten that scar during his most recent battle." An image of Rhys' face flashed in his memory. "Yeah, that scar's at least a year old. I'm actually curious as well. Hm..."

Lamaria too entered a thinking state, "I'm not master of bruises and scars, but I gotta agree with you there."

"Well, since the two of you are so interested." Marth began, lifting his index finger. "You're new mission is to figure out just how he got the scar. Yeah, this kills two birds with one stone."

Connor shook his head and simply turned around, lifting a glass of booze as he walked away. "If you two need me, I'll be drinking my liver out because that'll be one hell of a mission. That'll get me beyond an S-Class Mage." Laughing as he walked away, Connor waved the two of them off.

"Master Marth," Lamaria began in a high pitch. "How are we supposed to get him to tell us that? It's only been a couple of hours and he has already showed us that he can be a prick. This entire celebration is for him and he won't even talk to anyone. How are we supposed to even get some bit of personal information about him. That so selfish guild master."

In agreeance, Marth nodded. "It is indeed selfish, Lamaria. But it is why I announced we need to remold him. When I observed his battle, I learned, aside from his severe and overwhelming god complex, he has the drive to protect things until his last breath. If we can divert that in a beneficial manner towards the guild, then he will be an asset to behold. No, my apologies. He will be a true member of this guild."

Following Marth's "Warmhearted" speech, the Mages of Pheonix Rising all began to jump around in chants. Everyone that rested in the middle of the guildhall, enjoying their drinks in celebration of their new member, had been running towards the entrance of the guild. "Oh look who came to visit!" One of the guildmembers shouted, fawning at the door. Women had heart eyes and the men were filled with admiration.

They opened a path to allow this man to walk through, it lead directly down the guildhall to where Marth had been sitting. His eyes were closed but he had a slight smile because just like the members of the guild, he too was aware of who this man was. Pushing himself up from the chair, Marth looked to the man and spoke. "Well, hello, Donnell."

Correct, the man who everyone fawned over and admired the most, was Donnell Draconus a representative of the Magic Council and one of the current members of the Ten Wizard Saints. But he wasn't alone, he seemed to be accompanied by another individual. A teen, dressed in a white and black high-collar coat and spiky hair shaped into a mohawk down the middle of his head. "Oi, Marth!" Donnell said, cheerful as ever extending his arms out to give the guild master a hug.

"I must say," Marth began, turning his head to look at the individual accompanying Donnell. "I did not expect you to personally escort him to the guildhall. It's such a rare occasion when you're here. I have truly been caught off guard."

Donnell waved his hand and smacked his lips, "Aww, come on now, Marth. Don't say it like that! You make it seem as though I avoid visiting you or something." With that ending, Donnell looked to his left and right respectively pacing his sights back and forth as if he were looking for something.

"Who do you play me for, Donnell?" Marth asked in a rather calm tone despite his choice of words. "I am aware that the only reason you felt it was safe enough to come here is that Tianna is out on a mission at this moment." Lifting his left hand, Marth hit Donnell on top of his head. "You shouldn't do things like that. After all, it is your fault the two of you are no longer acquainted with one another."

Quickly wrapping his hand around Marth's mode, Donnell whispered for his to "shush". "Not too loud! She might hear you! You never know with her... she can be ANYWHERE." Straightening his clothing, Donnell stepped back and held his hand behind the boy that had accompanied him. "Anywho, Marth. This is the boy I've been telling you about."

"I see." Marth said, taking a moment to quickly analyze him. "I was going to ask Donnell, but I felt it was best I save the introductions for us to do." Extending his hand out for a shake, Marth introduced himself. "My name is Marth Silvamillion, I am the master of the Phoenix Rising guild."

The boy looked at Marth for a moment. He let his golden gaze dick deep into Marth's dark silvery eyes. Extending his own hand out, the boy went on to introduce himself as well. "Ezra Beelzegan." He said simply as the two shooks hands.

"Ezra Beelzegan, huh?" Marth asked, bringing his hand to his chin. "Where have I heard that last name before?" He took a brief moment to think, but once he realized it wasn't in his immediate memory he moved on. "Donnell has requested you be allowed to join Phoenix Rising and for a friend, I would open my doors to anyone they were willing to vouch for. Though, today seems to be quite the day," Marth began, looking up to Donnell now. "I've just recruited a new member into guild a few hours ago. He's about your age, maybe the two of you could mingle in that regard."

Surprised, the Councilman lifted an eyebrow. "Oh, a new member? Seriously?" Donnell asked, inching closer and closer to Marth. His eyes began buldged and his pupils were replaced by sparkles. "What kinda magic does he have, huh, huh?! Is it caster, holder, maker, tell me tell meeeeee!"

Holding his hand up to push Donnell back slightly, Marth couldn't help but let out his chuckle. "Rather interesting one if I were to comment on it myself. The way of meeting him was even more interesting. It seemed like something that would have only happened to you. He uses God Slaying Magic."

Ezra hesitated for a minute before proceeding to turn his eyes and looking away. Though he remained quiet, that last statement Marth made seemed to have bothered him slightly.

"God Slayer?! It's been ages since I've seen one. Is he strong? How strong is he? Can I test him out in a sparring match? I need to get a good gauge of his skills!" Donnell's questions and excitement flowed like a downhill river, he asked them one after another.

Because of this, Marth struggled to find a proper moment to answer each of the questions, so he simply waited until Donnell was done. "You may not spare with him, Donnell. He has literally just gotten out of a battle. In fact, his battle was a rather grave one. Went to the point of Taboo. It was against the leader of Dark Heart Bandits, Draven. He managed to secure the victory, skipping past the D-Class and is now a C-Class Mage."

Donnell's mouth dropped, "What? He was the one who defeated Draven?! I can't believe it! And you said these two are close in age? That's quite astounding." Donnell placed his hand on top of Ezra's head. "Hear that Ezra? That means you're gonna have to step your game up! Get proficient in that Weapon Magic and you'll be a winner."

"Oh right," Marth interrupted. "Speaking of classes and such, I take it you took the honors of properly registering him as a Mage, then? Would save me so much time considering you were there at the council with him for a while."

Eyes widening, Donnell dropped to his knees. "No! Why'd you have to remind me now?! Why not before I made that long journey down here. I can't believe you! I think you just like pointing out my faults, don't you, Marth."

"If you honestly believed I thought you'd remember, you are sadly mistaken and your time as a Wizard Saint has made you naive. I have all preparations made, I just need to send the forms up. Though I can say, it would have been much better if you did it while you're there since.. you know.. its kind of you guys' jobs."

Nodding, the Saint paced back and forth. "Yeah, yeah, yeah! Thanks, thanks a lot. It's our job. It's most definitely our job." Donnell agreed in a sarcastic manner, hand gripping his chin as he had flashes of the stacks of paper resting on top of his desk. "I'm not behind, Marth. I'm totally up to date with all of my work. I'm working hard. A hard-working, Donnell. Yup, that's me! I don't need Macnia to do anything for me, what do you mean? I'm responsible and totally capable of taking care of myself."

"Right," Marth said, signally Ezra to step forward. "Tell me, Ezra. Where would you like for your guild mark to go? Perhaps on one of your forearm-"

"NO!" Ezra responded, catching both Marth and Donnell off guard to the point Donnell had halting his malfunction. "Sorry for my outburst, can you just put it here?" Ezra asked, pointing to his right shoulder.

"Well of course," Marth answered, lifting his index and middle fingers at Ezra's shoulder, emitting a bright white light in the area. "There it is, Ezra. You are officially a full-fledged member of the Phoenix Rising guild. Welcome." With that greeting, the entire guildhall lit up in cheers and chugs for their second newest member and as such, it called a celebration.