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There's a REALLY good player by the name of "Kitsune" Just Kitsune. She's prolly been on Gaia since it's creation and she's a masterful villain-type in RPs.
I'll post a battle a character of hers and mine had and leave the decision up to you guys. I'm in read and Kitsu's in blue.
Though his gaze never wavered, Ashura slowly counted the tails with mild interest. How interesting, indeed. The most he'd ever come against was a four-tails. He'd be pressing his luck if his body could hold under the pressure of any further seals being broken, however- if he needed too, he'd force Lyric to unlock up to the seventh seal and allow his body to be taken over entirely by malice and hatred. After all, that's what Berserkers were created to do. He was not an ordinary youkai. Unlike others, he had not been born of his mistress through normal means of reproduction. No, his mistress had created him from an arm; an Oni arm, to be exact.
But due to negligence and abuse, Ashura reduced the woman to bloodied chunks and devoured her- a fox. But because of his actions, a curse had been placed on him to restrict his actions accordingly. And because Ashura had nothing more than boundless strength, only the most intense pain could bring that slumbering power boiling to the surface. But even against magic, Ashura's impressive might had always led him to prevail against whatever odds were against him. Now that he'd gotten himself into this, he was far too stubborn to back down now. Death meant only a blissful escape from reality to him, though he couldn't claim to honestly embrace the idea of losing his life to a fox, no matter what she called herself.
"Whatever. Foxes are foxes. By any other name, I still hate you." he spat back confidently.
Not a trace of fear shown evident in his eyes and his stance only stiffened with anticipation. From his chest, runic designs flared to life, restricting him painfully like bolts and screws through his skin, causing it to depress inward as if puncturing him. Two red orbs flashed beneath his collarbone, two blue seals burned through the sleeves of his jacket, melted his gloves, and were revealed. A similar yellowish jewel appeared in center of his forehead, jutting in sharply until his skin bled crimson blood. Another green sphere protruded out the back of his neck, pushing away the lengthy silver/black braid. But most noticeably, was the enormous black orb embedded just above his bare navel.
But upon closer examination, one could see that they were more than just marbles with impressive runic drawing inscribed upon them; they were living eyes that watched the so-called Myobu anxiously, as if on edge and preparing for an intense thrill. The 'Eyes of the Seven Sages and Unspoken Seal', it was a forgotten curse of sealing, long forgotten by man and spirits alike, only held in practice by the most eccentric of gods these days. This was mainly because the seals would inevitably destroy the victim through incurable disease and fatigue. However, this nekomata was in prime form.
His entire life had been spent tuning his physical body to the very peak of perfection, building stamina to the point where limitations seemed inconceivable and where pain was but a trivial nuance to be dealt with accordingly. The cursed seals had become a bittersweet blessing in disguise for him. In time, they would wear down his body and devour him until only a husk was left; but he would use what time he had at his disposal to vanquish this world of all foxes.
A coarse, thick green miasma ventilated, circling about the figure of Ashura. It traced his outline in emerald and illuminated his dusky skin with a soft blue hue, empowering his muscles physically. They swelled, growing and doubling- tripling in size. The pulsated all in unison once, stretching his jacket until it would pull taught no further. His jeans were reduced to shorts by now, huge and muscular legs supporting the weight of what looked like the ultimate of bodybuilding. The ground beneath his feet had even begun to crumble beneath his weight and he was sinking into a crater of molten sand and dirt.
But even before the transformation, his body was perfect. Had she noticed, or given a second to look at Lyric- she would have realized that his knuckles had split from striking the feline; his body was like steel. And more threateningly, it had only become more efficient in what he was designed to do. His mistress had foolishly created him as a means for protection. Foolishly, she sought to control the creature through implanting a sort of mental instability flaw deep within him. Unfortunately, the result of her folly now placed a threat out there for all foxes to know. His name was Seto Ashura; Fox Slayer.
"Before this ends, you'll inform me to the whereabouts of the others. That is not a request. However, should you perish in all this- I'll give you a merciful burial. Nine-tails are extraordinarily beautiful; I'll admit that to you now. You were right. For that, I'll erect and altar here in your memory. I'm afraid that's all I'm limited to. Speaking of limitations..." the deviant's now-raspy voice sunk deep within his throat and emitted a dull, scratching sound. It was hollow, empty, and accompanied only afterward by a feral scream, which shook the surrounding area with its deafening blare. In that, the 'eyes' centered in his neck, forehead, and forearms awoke, rolling about in their 'sockets' eerily.
"I think that's about four of them..." he muttered, cracking his neck from the stiffness, then his knuckles. This was no longer over-confidence; it was assurance. He was assured of himself and his abilities. All the false-bravado he'd carried on with before now melted away, not unlike Kumiho's illusion. He was cool, composed, and resolute. Now that he had said he would take her down, he'd stop at nothing to accomplish his task- even at the cost of death. That was just how strong his convictions were.
What would she do against him, he wondered. He had an eye in every thinkable blind spot and his strength and speed were heightened onto a considerable plane that mimicked astral projection. Even now, a spiritually super-imposed image loomed in the background behind the youkai. It was vastly immense, far shadowing the gigantic Lyric and making the dog seem small in comparison. It took the form of a menacing were-tiger with its fangs bared and claws posed to strike. Even beneath the two tusk-like fangs, the smaller teeth were sharp and jagged. His belief in his abilities was actually the source of all his power. The more he was convinced of her inferiority, the more likely he seemed to be the one that would emerge victorious. Were this actually Ashura, and not his spiritual self, one could have easily given into doubt. Still, he was certain that she would not do so. She was a Nine-tails: the cream-of-the crop. She even proclaimed ties to Inari, which actually brought about concern.
Nevertheless, Ashura would slay Inari as well. That would inevitably be the end of his quest, if he did not meet premature defeat beforehand. Yes, he had high aspirations, indeed. But considering the ungodly amount of energy his body expended, given the right amount of training- he just might achieve his goals...
But that was entirely another story...
He couldn't hide the obvious flaws, though he would have liked to. No doubt, she could see the muscle fibers under heavy strain and how his veins struggled to keep blood flooding to his limbs. His pulse now frenzied far beyond the norm, pushing him over his limitations with just four seals released and overflowing his bodily 'container' like a cup with too much tea poured in. Just then, his jacket burned away- melted by the untamed power he secreted. But that, in itself, was and obvious flaw. If she took notice of this, she'd know that he hadn't yet learned to control the extent of his skills.
"Forgive me, Miss Kumiho. But I do intend to continue my 'foolish endeavor'. I hope that you do not hold this against me, but I'm going to attack you now. Prepare yourself..." he muttered, whipping back the blade and hurtling at her like buzz saw at deceptively fast speeds. But even at that, by the time he loosed the sword from his grasp, he was already directly to the left of her- two sharp grooves dug into the ground where he'd bolted up to her and prepared to follow through with an amazing reinforced punch. As he drew back his knuckles, blood splurged as the skin tore apart. But even that was burned away as the tremendous force of his fist seemed to tear away at the fabric of the space surrounding his hand. True, it was a deceptive manipulation of his physical strength. But even trained eyes may have failed to notice this unintentional ruse. He let the blow fly just as his sword closed in on her.
Needless to say- Ashura was strong, very strong. Perhaps, and only perhaps, he had the physical might to contend with those on a higher scale of existance. Spiritual beings or not, everything felt pain when prodded hard enough. And Ashura specialized in prodding...
Kumiho was disappointed by Ashura's response. It's obvious that he has lost all intellect he once held and has given himself over to brutality. It would have been a much more pleasurable experience had he simply abandoned his silly desire to fight her and continued on his way a wiser man, made aware of the difference between the Myobu and the lowly Nogitsune. Deep down, she knew that he wouldn't understand, though. Few creatures did. When they see a fox, they see a fox and nothing more. A foolish mistake that even masterful people fall victim to. Why does it have to be the pretty ones, this time.
Looking on as the runes appear on his form, the kyuubi is slightly taken aback. She could only watch as the strange seals appeared all over him and a sudden case of deja vu strikes her. She has seen those things once before. In a scroll that Inari kept among the rest of his personal belongings - a treasure chest that was marked off limits long ago. True, Kumiho had no legitimate reason for looking through his things, but the instincts of a fox can never be denied. Her curiosity got the better of her. Sadly, the meaning of these seals are lost on the elder spirit and so she has no idea what she is getting herself involved in. Removing her gaze from the seals, Kumiho witnesses the painful looking, yet morbidly fascinating transformation in all its glory, her stoic expression twisting into one of pity at what he has become in her eyes. What was he doing to himself? The stench of his burning flesh and blood coupled with the now evident miasma made her delicate stomach turn, unused to the pungent odor. For a time, her stomach threatened to expel its contents, but the celestial quickly fought it back.
Her eyes narrow as his muscles bulge and grow, threatening to tear apart his clothing. Where had that attractive young neko gone? Despite her desire to leave this beast behind in her dust, she remains where she is - frozen in place by her own curiosity. What else will this creature do to himself? Sadness soon overtakes her as she looks upon Ashura, noticing the immense strain his body is now undergoing to maintain his demonic form. The roaring of the superimposed were-tiger did little to her resolve and she probably wouldn't have noticed it at all had it not roared. It's clear he means business. And so does she.
"I will put you out of your misery, kitten..."
Her tails fan out as white flames dance around them and rise up around each of her thin ankles to taper off in shimmering sparkles. The temperature around her skyrockets as the air undulates, casting the illusion that the vixen is standing over a ruptured gas line. Summoning a brilliant aura of purity to counteract the demonic miasma swirling about Ashura, the vixen prepares to unleash a suitable starter attack. Her slender jaws pull apart as orbs of lights circle around, drawn into her throat. However, something quickly makes her think twice and she snaps her jaws shut, dispersing the gathered orbs harmlessly in the wavering air around her.
This isn't her land.
To fight here would be dangerous considering all the abundant plantlife and innocent animals lurking about. It would anger not only the kami watching now, but the demi-god that protects this land and Inari himself if she carelessly jeopardized the lives of innocent people to teach a foolish cat creature...thing...a lesson. She can already see the disappointed frown from the rice god and that is enough to inspire fear in the kyuubi. Staring at the living monstrocity before her with his multiple demonic eyes and powerful aura of destruction came nowhere near to establishing the level of distress that the eyes of the rice god could bring her when upset.
"Have you any respect for nature? Summoning such a malicious power in this recently purified land."
It was a stupid question and she is aware of it. Considering what he is doing to himself, it's obvious he doesn't care about anything but victory. Revising her strategy, the vixen decides to hold back her own potentially devestating attacks, allowing Ashura to do the attacking while she takes up the defensive. It's far easier to evade a Berserker and tire him out than it is to attack one straight forward. Tensing, her muscles contract before exploding into action, sending the vixen speeding to the right in an arching movement no normal eye could ever perceive. Even a demon's enhanced vision would have trouble keeping up, only managing to catch mere afterimages as the original kyuubi moves. By the time Ashura's blade reaches her last location and the cat demon's fist slices the heated air, Kumiho is already standing several yards away in his previous position, appearing as if she had been standing there the entire time. Ashura is extremely fast, but she is faster. Kumiho is confident that there is no way that the fox hunter can match her speed.
She isn't Inari's best messenger for nothing after all.
Maintaining her fluid breathing, the kyuubi tosses her tails a bit behind her and croons. Even now her muscles are ready to carry her out of harms way, her senses open to the environment around her. Though Ashura appears to be the biggest threat of all, he does have a partner and the large dog could be up and moving about already despite the abuse he received earlier. They're both strong demons. That much she is aware of. Where they specialize in strength, she will concentrate in speed and stamina.
"Too slow."
"It's no use. I'll never be fast enough...not at this rate. Can't afford to break another seal...my body would never hold up..." Ashura hissed internally, dashing the idea before it came. This was insane. He'd never gone up against a full nine-tails and honestly stood no chance at it. By the time he actually noticed that she had moved from the spot, she had already gathered more than enough energy to eradicate him right-out. This wasn't looking well in his favor. He had not taken the time to learn his seals' strength and never even thought about mastering them.
In this, their most needed hour, they would be of little use. This fox has outlived him by many ages and has seemingly unlimited power- far outmatching his own. Still, it has never been in his nature to give in against the odds. Knowing this, Ashura's mind races through hundreds of tactics- scanning for something menial, something pointless, just anything to buy enough time for the time limit on the fifth seal to unlock. If he was too hasty now and acted rashly, his chest would cave in.
The hurtling blade slammed into the side of his shoulder and ricocheted like a bullet, chirping in protest and bouncing straight up into the air as if it struck diamond and was rebuked. It spun wildly for a second before he reached out and caught it by the handle and swung it around to his shoulder with a subtle metallic 'wonk' from the enchanted blade.
"Forgive me. I had no idea." he muttered. For all it was worth, his words were spoken earnestly. In his state now, everything was taken seriously. Every warning she'd given at this point had been considered. But if he backed down now, betraying his ethics- he'd be nothing worse than a coward who failed at keeping his convictions solid. But moreso, he would be breaking a very sacred promise. Because of that, he had to face her with everything he had. He had to give his all, whether his heart would be in this fight or not; there was no opportunity to back away and simply turn back.
'Seto, those who lie...those who turn away, thinking that there's always a second chance...those types of people don't deserve to exist in this world- don't you agree?'
The words flowed back through his mind like a mantra he had recited through countless lifetimes, he would never forget them. He couldn't forget them, not now. Not ever. Etched into memory, engraved in blood; the words had become a part of him, and endless etude of sorrow that would exist until his death. But without this, he could never live as dangerously as he did. But that was enough time to reminisce. Kumiho was waiting for him now, attempting to gauge his efficiency. Sadly, the feline knew his inability to offer a challenge at the fourth level. However, the fifth seal cracked and a subtle vibration shook his skin from the power released. Still, it was nothing- not even close to being enough.
"Damn it. There's no chance at this. Not this way...I'll have to slant my assault. Clever as she is, she pointedly moved to where I was- likely clearing from most of the traps Lyric set. Hmm, she's no amateur at this...I'll be lucky if I can I-I-I....gaugh..." It was already starting to take effect. He coughed, sputtering up blood into his hands. Internal injury was setting in, most likely his lungs. They had always been weak and the first to give whenever the seals were revoked. What would he do now, how would he see through this when his body started to give way much earlier than anticipated? It must have been because he allowed his anger to take hold far too earlier before having Lyric activate the first seal, he figured. Unknowingly, he'd allowed far too much opportunity to leave his hands. Where he wise, he would have cut the girl down before, when she was disguised.
It was too late for regrets now; he had to act now. With another seal unleashed, slightly more speed and power was at his disposal before his lungs could begin to swell. He would have to put it all to good use. Combining that with his knowledge of Lyric's trap placement, he would have to bring all the resources at his disposal if he even dreamed of standing a chance against this fox. There were no other alternatives now; he would have to pit whatever he had in one final blow. With all the anxiety wildly rampaging through his veins, simply breathing became an arduous task. This would be interesting, putting everything he had on the line for his ideals. It had been the focus of his entire life. He had built himself up to be the person his mistress would have looked up to in her honor.
Nothing anyone said, nothing their frail minds could muster would ever be enough to shatter self-image he withheld, not even a god like Inari. He was Seto Ashura. He would stand strong in the face of all adversity, great or small. Through hard work and effort, a low-level youkai would show those born in the image of power that not all things could be determined by rank and status. Those weak and unnoticed were special in their own right and those who lie and undermine the abilities of those without would pay a dire price. His journey was a righteous one. All these things, he convinced himself now and flooded out doubt through underlying confidence in himself. In his mind, he could defeat her. He knew it. He had come to far to fail now.
He turned with his sword in hand and charged toward Kumiho, plunging huge splintering holes in the ground as the sound of a stampede closed the distance between them. And though this would likely be the last of his seal-empowered strength, he regretted nothing. This was what he lived for. Muscles strained until they seemed to burst, the massive sword moaned as it was swung sidelong and lashed out at Kumiho. But as it flew, Ashura's body spun into a chaotic funnel as he moved, drawing earth, sand, and debris all in tow. The wind about him became layered in the ethereal miasma that surrounded him, melding into a spiritual wall of churning force. The jade whirlwind whipped into a maddening frenzy and then descended upon the Myobu with all the force Ashura could muster. This was his signature trademark move and his finishing deathblow...
"Ashura Sempuu!"
His senses had already spun out of phase. He saw nothing now and everything became meaningless- a fuzzy white blur filled with endless white noise. Perhaps he'd fallen unconscious, but why his body was still moving? Was this death, had she killed him instantly upon contact? No, death wasn't this vague. The dead died. This was more like a heightened state of mind, that proverbial Nirvana that he'd been seeking all his years; this had be to a taste of what power those wretched foxes became drunk upon. For the first time in many years, Ashura felt truly esteemed and worthwhile. Whatever would result from his brazen attack would be accepted for this singular moment of tranquility. He could close his eyes, and eagerly did so, for this fleeting instance would be savored in its entirety while it lasted. When he awoke to the truth...if he opened his eyes, would it...just go away, leaving him in his sorrow once again...?
'Just don't open them...keep them shut...your way is right. You're always right...keep on telling yourself that...please...believe...believe...remember me, Seto. Didn't you love me? Don't you regret what you did? DON'T YOU?! ANSWER ME, SLAVE!' that faintly bittersweet voice resonated at the back of his mind. Even in death, she tormented him; she was his mistress, his beloved...his dead wife.
"M-Mayuka...I...I never meant to..."
In a moment of pure insanity and pandemonuim, Ashura's tornado spin collapsed before ever reaching the fox. His legs gave beneath the immense strain and his knees buckled, causing him to trip over his own feet and revolve aimlessly out of control. The nekomata was flung from the centrifuge and hurtled facedown into the sand, skidding across the top of his head before toppling like a leaf tossed in the breeze. Thrown like a rag-doll, the cat hurtled past Kumiho just as the Ashura Sempuu rushed off its course and dissipated without the source there to power it.
Slowly, the youkai's body came to rest in a nearby trench that had been carved from his failed attempt. He lay there, soaked in the warmth of his own blood. His muscles were useless now that the spell had worn off; they shrank back to normal, and bleed profusely now that several cuts and gashes had presented themselves during his fall from grace. Still, he struggled to continue, despite obvious defeat. What was wrong with him? Was he mad or stupid, or perhaps a compilation of both? Any sane person would have given up this meaningless battle ages ago.
But perhaps that was his reasoning. To him, this battle, just like all before, meant everything. His pride meant everything to him and when he placed it on the line like this, giving in while he still had breath left in his body was as shameful as a merciless defeat. He forces his blurred gaze to come into focus as best it could, still finding triplicates of Kumiho glaring down at him. His ears flattened against his head as nausea caught up to him and washed over him in a sickening wave. He found himself nearly on the verge of vomiting up what little contents he held.
"H-hey...don't let up....we....we ain't finished. Not yet...I've still got...two more seals to go..." he lied, glancing down at his bloodied arms in bewildered disbelief. Though he could lie to convince himself, nothing could instantly repair the damage that had been done to his body. It was finished; he had screwed up. The seals would never respond to him in this battered state and even if they did, the resulting flux of power would undoubtedly destroy him in its wake. He was shuddering now, his body unable to withstand the task of drawing in necessary oxygen.
But even in hopelessness, Ashura was once again on his feet, swaying helplessly in an attempt to launch one more attack. If he could just move his legs, ignore the swelling that wracked his body with excruciating torment, and land one solid blow...it would be more than enough. With passion still embedded deep beneath layers of unshaken pride, Ashura broke into sprint once more- fist drawn back for one more shot. He rushed, lacking all the speed of his previous attempts and even less strength. Blood oozed from every spot imaginable, covering the feline in scarlet. But even with as horrible as his external appearance seemed, it was certain that internal injuries were far more grievous than imaginable.
Bones were broken and cracked, organs were scarred, and repairable damage had been dealt over countless years of using such a suicidal technique; it was a miracle and testament to his physical strength that he could still manage to move at all at this point. Nearly everything he utilized had either been ruined or disabled. The arm he raised to strike; it was broken. His ribs; cracked. His legs; swollen until the knees were pained to flex. With all this, his motivation to rid this world of foxes, his intense and somewhat misguided rage for those beings drove him further than he'd ever gone before. And then, it dwindled.
He collapsed somewhere along the way and ate dirt, diving into a plume of smoke and sand.
"S-so...so close. I...I have to stand up. Please...move...stand up...please..." he pleaded, begging his legs to act once again. But no response would come. He had spent everything now, not even an ounce of strength left to pull his face from the ground and scowl at her for this humiliation. She could finish him now; she had more than the opportunity.
"Don't...don't humiliate me...by just standing there. Do something...don't let up...I'd...I'd have actually killed you...were it in my power...so...so...by all rights, you have to do the same...and so...a-and....and so...." His eyes shut peacefully now, his fists unclenched from the bitter hatred he felt, slumbering peacefully in a bed of sand.
A tiny smile creeps along the luminescent vixen's muzzle, her ears and nose telling her everything she needs to know. This fox-hunter has given up any advantage he had by morphing into that Beserker form. There's no way he can match her speed nor can his body, composed of negative energy, withstand her celestial attacks. Had he simply stayed his earlier course and left, he wouldn't be in this predicament now - but there's no need to bring it to his attention. She's sure that he already knows that. She can feel the change of his mindset, sense the sudden urgency to devise a tactic. 'A little late for that, kitten.' As he stands there, trying to think of ways to buy himself some time, she could have unleashed several meteor storms on him. Perhaps assaulted him with a beam of energy with the same intensity of this realm's sun. The sky is the limit. However, she did not attack. She will not allow this innocent land to suffer more than it has to. That means no destructive attacks...which brings her arsenal of skills down to a mere two.
She'll make do.
Watching the blade bounce off his skin, the celestial quickly takes note of it. His rock hard exterior may prove impossible to rupture with her special skill and there's no way her claws and teeth could pierce it. The vixen takes a single half step back and frowns. His voice, sounding more like a whisper from the current distance between them, is surprisingly serious and she half-expected him to grunt or growl instead. That is what mindless demons do when in battle. She wouldn't think any less of him if he backed out now considering the odds, but she will have to kill him regardless. It's the only way his soul can find the peace it so desperately needs. There is a tortured person somewhere in that monstrosity and she has made it her purpose to set that person free. Death is the ultimate release. As Ashura mulls over his own thoughts, she quickly takes a reading of the immediate area. So far, the only true safe paths are the ones lying straight ahead of her, the arch to the right that she took previously, and the path to the left that Ashura used to charge her from. As long as she sticks to the ground already tread upon, she should be able to avoid any hidden traps lying about.
Catching the sound of the nekomata's blood-ridden coughs, the celestial kitsune lifts her head to stare at him. His condition is worsening and fast. It's as if he's facing two enemies, the kyuubi and his own power.
"Stop this, demon. You will kill yourself before you can strike me."
It sounded perfectly reasonable to her, but apparently, it fell on deaf ears. Ashura decision to charge her made that perfectly clear. The time has come. Fixing her stance to provide her maximum balance, the vixen's aura explodes around her body, sending uneven waves of heat up from the ground below to spiral around her. Again, the familiar orbs appear around her muzzle and change from sunburst yellow to stark white. Her jaws part, allowing the gathered orbs to flow into her rapidly heating throat - the tiny particles massing together to form a tennis ball sized orb of ether. The purest and most destructive form of energy, the volatile mass acts as a temporary magnet, drawing in more and more power as it drifts out of her throat to hang suspended in the air in front of her jaws. As it pulls in more energy from the world around it to feed itself, the core doubles in size and strength, reaching an almost uncontrollable level within a few seconds. However, Kumiho manages to harness it and keep it from exploding prematurely. She'll have to time everything just right. Use it just when the opening presents itself. Otherwise, she'll not only destroy Ashura, but also the area around them. That won't do at all. Her lavendar eyes turn silver before bleaching out to pure white, marking the end of the power transfer and not a moment to soon.
Ashura is already upon her now, but instead of swinging his massive sword as she figured he would, the nekomata spun with it instead. The massive funnel of dirt, debris and miasma that formed around him was akin to a horizontal tornado, roaring out its madness in voice created by the churning wind and matter bouncing around within it. It would have been strangely beautiful if it wasn't out to destroy her. Turning her muzzle upwards, the celestial releases her counter attack without wasting a second more than was needed. Calling out almost a split second after Ashura, the kyuubi's voice resonates like the cry of a hardened battle maiden.
"Shingi! Eeteru Sutoraiku!"
Even before she completed the name, the collected mass of ether mixed with the surrounding lands energy plows forward in a massive beam that envelopes the destructive tornado in a coccoon of blazing white fire and light energy. To anyone unfortunate enough to be in its grasp, they would mistake the blinding light as a possible vision of heaven or paradise. Surrounded on all sides, they either allow themselves to be fooled by the feeling and give up - resulting in instant vaporization that is relatively painless, or they fight the illusion and continue to struggle - ultimately finding themselves face to face with the deadly core of ether. Being torn asunder by the core is an extremely painful way to go. Either way, they die and it is extremely rare for anyone to survive the attack. If they did, perhaps there is good within them and the gods have some sort of special task for them to complete in their lives. Kumiho is certain that the nekomata is dead, however. What divine purpose could the gods have for a low-grade, run-of-the-mill, neko like Ashura?
Kumiho allows her jaws to slide closed, curling tendrils of white steam rising from the corner of her muzzles and her nose. Looking on, one can now see the globe of light roughly the size of the transformed neko and his sword, both of which are suspended within the swirling mass of energy. The two powers are dueling: the tornado tearing and ripping breaks in the sphere around it while the sphere itself struggles to keep itself whole. Once or twice, the sphere loses and the tornado is allowed the opening to cut through, ripping and tearing at the ground below and bombarding the area around the fox-hunter and his prey with powerful gusts of wind. Despite it all, the massive sphere inches forward still, pushed by Ashura's strength. She didn't use too much power in creating it, out of fear of harming the land around it, but she is sure that its enough to finish off Ashura.
It has to be.
When the energy ball suddenly shatters, raining harmlessly down to the earth below in the form of aquamarine and pale blue sparkles, the kyuubi is shocked to see the nekomata in one piece still. In the first real outward change, Kumiho portrays an absolutely dumbfounded expression. Did his attack save him? Was it truly that powerful? Her eyes widen to the size of saucers when the cat actually speaks. Her attack did absolutely nothing to him! Regaining her composure, the vixen's eyes narrow in her hardly controlled anger.
"That's...impossible. You should be dead..."
As he rose to his feet, she prepares to unleash yet another attack, this one composed of even more ether. She'll kill him. She'll wipe him clean off the face of the planet. The familiar orbs again appeared around her muzzle as she prepared to create yet another ball of ether to work with. However, the need to make one suddenly vanished. Watching in mild confusion, the vixen witnesses the neko's fall to the broken earth and the consequential slide that brings him a mere 6 feet from the luminescent Myobu. Growling, the vixen opens her jaws again and prepares an ether strike at point-blank range. There's no way that he can survive that. She'll give him the ending he has so kindly asked for.
"Be at peace, fox-hunter."
'Tomeru!'
The voice rang in her head like one of the bells of Notre Dame. Snapping her jaws shut, the kyuubi winces visibly before bringing her head down as if staring at her own paws in shame. Outwardly, it's hard to tell what's going on, but inside the vixen is in conversation with the one responsible for sending her to this realm in the first place. 'Master?!'
'You will spare his life.' The booming voice declares without pause. 'Did you not see the seals upon him? He must not die. Not now. I hereby place you in charge of watching over him. Keep him alive until his purpose is fully realized.'
The kyuubi's eyes widen in surprise and she bites back the urge to whine. His purpose was painfully clear. He's a fox-hunter. He desires to waste all foxes! What kind of divine purpose is that?! Her tails fan out and she whimpers. 'Master!? Have I wronged you or brought dishonor to the Myobu? Why are you demoting me?'
'Silence!' The voice cuts in once more, irritation evident in its very tone. Needless to say, the kyuubi's whimpering stops at once and the voice continues. 'You have not been demoted. I would trust this duty to no one but one of your talents. I know that you will guard him well as you have guarded my chosen before. He must live long enough to realize his divine purpose. See to it or you will lose your place...'
'Yes, my lord. I shall.' The crestfallen vixen nods once in confirmation and turns her gaze on the neko lying face down in front of her. All she need do is crush his skull with her paw... What kind of appointment is this? A fox guarding the life of a fox slayer!? It's enough to make her want to scream in anguish. Of all Myobu, why did she have to be chosen? Why did he appoint her to such a lowly task. From a prized messenger to the babysitter of a cat youkai. Is this some sort of a test? The shimmering fur raises on her hackles and she snarls viciously at the slumbering creature before storming away from him with a walk akin to a sulking wolf's. So caught up in her own problems, she doesn't pay any mind to possible traps set by Lyric nor does she even think about the large sheepdog himself. Her only thought is to find a place where she can sulk alone.
"This is all his fault! Twice I gave him the chance to...grrrr. Baka neko. Baka! BAKA!"
As if things could get any worse for Kumiho...
....
Elsewhere, in a lavish palace far from the view of mortal men, a stark white kyuubi with crimson eyes sits proudly poised upon a silken pillow that once belonged to Kumiho. Beside her, a figure dressed in layers upon layers of elegant kimono rests on what could be considered a throne dating back to times unimaginable, an opaque veil draped over his youthful face to keep the details of his expression unseen by all around him. The ghostly white vixen yawns lightly and flicks her tails, whispering softly to the god seated beside her.
"My Grace, even Kumiho lacks the power to contend with so many nogitsune. She's going to fail without back-up."
The figure only chuckles in response, seemingly unaffected by the news.
And there you have it.
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