Eyes unwavering from the position of the target, Kotosho watched with complete accuracy and awareness of what was happening. As his fire spells closed onto the pest, he sense and was witness to the explosion of power within the being, now assumed human from its rough shadowy frame. Within an instant, there was a clash of opposing forces and his spells were reduced to nothing with what seem like a flick of the wrist. Or his opponent had no realisation on how much power they unleashed.

Still he stared with relentless concentration. The target was moving closer to him, skipping from the rooftops, ever higher, towards Kotosho’s position. It wouldn’t be long until he was in range for close quarters combat, the one thing the mage detested. It drained him all the more to defend from physical hits and worse yet, his opponent seemed to possess a weapon that could channel he could unusual magic energy.

‘Better to tire him out or injure him with the time I’ve got’ was the only thought, the only objective in Kotosho’s mind as he called upon the winds of magic around him once more. The rush was more sustained as he created a direct access for the magic to run through him, to feed both himself and the crystal. He prayed it held and supplied him with enough through the messy affair. Closing his eyes, his mind locked on to the target. The power that coursed through his veins pumped with unnecessary vigour, as if the magic had grown a conscious and thirsted for blood; and he would satisfy its need.

Raising his arms high and to the right, he forced all the magic to both hands this time. As he further concentrated the energy, compressing it, bending it, until it was shaped and utterly dependant to his will, a strange glowing emblem appeared on the flow. Its circular shape was lined with symbols of a dead tongue; its centre was filled with abstract images of what seemed to be a moon, the stars and coursing lines that withered and moved in-between it all. The lines grew, becoming solid and extending outwards into the third dimension. This whipped out at the air, catching unseen flies, crushing them in their iron grip.

As the power grew, so did the tendrils of magic until, in a diagonal sweep, Kotosho let his arms fall and the chaotic energy ripped into what misshapen existence it had. In an arced wave of distorted reality, the attack soared with a raging brutality and drew all within to it, tearing them to shreds, and at the same time, rejecting everything. Bent steal, shards of broken glass and other objects that were gathered in the growing destruction were reshaped and destroyed, recomposed and then gone again in an instant.

‘I wonder how he handles this one’ Kotosho mused to himself as a strange, almost amused smile, gathered on his shadowed face.