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The dark one had lost his kill, and now his prey was pissing him off. Without much thought, he ripped the sword out of him - but not all of it. As the sword didn't have a blood line, it was stuck in their by some serious suction. Instead, with a dark rage he snapped the weapon while simultaneously focusing dark energy through his blood at a much higher level than before so that the rest of the weapon was beginning to dissolve with in him and any blood that came out and splattered on the ground at this moment would do the same.

With a savage scream, he swung the dark sword down at his opponent's chest with intent to pin him into the ground through his chest while he currently wielded the broken weapon like a jagged knife. If the man was successfully impaled to the ground the broken weapon would find itself impaling Dame's throat.

"...Die...Die... DIe.. DiEE DIEE DIEEE DIIEIEIEEEEEE!!!"

The dark one took the full brunt of the kick to the face, causing him to rear back slightly and stumble only a little bit as the mask itself flew a short distance from the fighters. The insane arena, which had remained fairly tame at the moment, proceeded to grab the mask with strange dark tentacles which started to wrap around the ring. The center remained untouched, aside from the damage that had happened. Above, dark clouds began to circle as they glowed with a strange blood red color.

The dark one turned to face Dame. His hidden face appeared much like Stephens, but with some significant differences. The normally blue eyes were pitch black, with only a minor color variation between the iris and the pupil. The only contrast was the whites, which shone brightly in comparison to the rest. On the left eye was a strange marking or scar that went vertically down past it with what was presumably some indiscernible pattern around the eye itself. His mouth bore a vile grin, flashing beast like canines that were not so much teeth as they were fangs.

He had a look of pure madness on it, his eyes dilated, his chest heaving as he breathed in and out angrily. He clenched the swords in his fists tightly, his now apparent claw like nails now drawing blood from his hands as he focused on Damrius. His face dripped with blood from the previous blow.

"... Is this what you wanted?... IS THIS WHAT YOU WANTED!?!" he screamed. "Your impudensssssee dis-PLEASES ME, b***h!!!" The dark one shook violently as he began to scream and curse, shifting between his psychotically amused and neurotically angered moods. "If only you had behaved... then you wouldn't have to DIE like thissssssss... you wouldn't HAVE to be ERADICATED!!!... I was going to make you a part of me, but NOW YOU DESSSSSERVE NOTHING!!! NOTHING!!!..."

He paused for a moment, his screaming giving way to quiet, intense, passionate insanity

"...but oblivion..."

With a swing of his arm and a maniacal laugh, he launched an obscene amount of dark energy into the various pools of dark blood that he had left lying around. The effect of it caused it all to erupt in geysers of dark blood and energy as he released his rage. With a sick smile, he licked the blood from the side of his dark weapon, then, despite his dark energy now drained for the moment, he charged at Dame (who was presumably still recovering from the dark geysers) and came in with an attempt to split him in half diagonally down with the right hand dark blade, followed by the overkill shoving of the broken sword into Dame's face, right between the eyes above the nose and below the forehead -

All while laughing in an insane berserk rage...

Ankokuko tasted flesh, a black ribbon would be felt filling Ruuvans injury, clearly displaying where he was marked. For an elf, it was most definitely audible. It was the Atrum Orquesta, the Dark Orchestra, a choir of voices which rose from the depths of black that surrounded both men. They rumbled suspiciously as the blade moved upwards and the broken into a joyous melody as the sword was wet.

Maximos did not give chase.

This was no hunt, this was a fight. A small war between two warriors. Two people of legend. Ruuvan didnt know of the towers erected in his honor, paintings and song sung about the shadow and the elf who traveled across Aria forsaking themselves as heroes do.

A hero need not speak, when he is gone the world will speak for him. Could Ruuvan live up to there words? To the songs the bards sing? To the books and movies and games of legend? Could Maximos?

Regardless, Maximos stepped forward calmly. Silently. The shadows padded his footsteps instinctively, it was as if he was meant to pass silently through the night, as part of it. The elf would be left in the clearing for an awkwardly long time, the heat of the moment making it seem to stretch on and on.

And then there was movement. A sound.

It was wood splintering.

Maximos was stepping into the clearing, his right arm seemed to shimmer in the moonlight. Something all individuals with actual skin should know was that it did not shimmer like metal. And yet Maximos' right arm did. His left arm hung at his side, his blade kept parallel with the ground. A deep indigo glow rippled over it, the shadows around Ruuvan, sung and jittered unnaturally as Maximos stepped nearer.

His right hand was visibly clenching a nearby tree. The entire arm, from finger tip to shoulder was covered in this sort of black banded metal. Strips on strips laying over each other. On closer inspection, something available to a magic eye, one would be able to see that it appeared as if ribbons of black metal covered the arm, each attached by a small black hand that held onto the ribbon below and beside, over, and over. Lines of dark orange faintly shone, revealing the runes which ran down the arm. The armor looked about as thick as plate mail, and led down to Maximos hand.

The hand was currently choked around a nearby tree trunk. Its digits hand been extended like blades, each was at least 4inches longer than normal human fingers, and sharp like talons. They dug deep in the wood. The rear of the hand faced Ruuvan. Something shimmered in its center, something a deep orange.

On the back of Maximos' palm there was a violet sunburst, and at its center, was an eye. It was so still it seemed painted on, perhaps it was a design. But then it moved, it rolled as if the palm was its socket and locked on Ruuvan. Its pupil was bright orange, but its glow was dull in the moonlight. It matched the shadow of the fingertips belonging to this deadly claw.

Maximos stepped into the clearing cutting five long streaks into the tree as his hand pulled away and fell at his side. The five knife like fingers of his hand retracted to normal length, gently glinting in the moonlight, the metal digits jingling against one another like wind chimes. The eye was seen visible rolling around to face inside the palm, before returning to face outwards again.

This was the Dark Grasp, the attack mode. Not that Ruuvan need know any of that.

Maximos stopped a good 10ft from Ruuvan, his cutting through the shade, illuminating nothing but itself, a toothy grin on his face. His teeth almost seemingly to glow in the dark.

He broke the silence. Anyone much less one with a magic eye could see what Ruuvan was doing. Perhaps not the details, but the shadows noted a rise in the light. Maximos raised his sword to point at Ruuvan.

Show me.

As Stephen was coming down, he saw the face, but his eyes were more focused on the claw coming for his throat. He didn't bother with trying to catch it.

Instead, he would swing both of his arms - since both were now free - behind him, and as they came closer to the ground, his right knee would come up to try and catch stephen just above the pevic bone, right in the lower gut. As his hands would hit the ground, he would dig them into the ground in an attempt to pull stephen in a mid-air backflip, to slam stephen to the ground, and dig his whole weight into the boys gut and onto his pelvic bone, hopefully shattering the thing.

Damrius felt the sword peirce his left lung, and he could swear he felt it split an arterie to his heart. His own sword... Used to kill him.

But, that hadn't officially killed him - yet. He still had a few moments time where his left hand would slam into stephen's right arm, and lock itself around it. Simultaneously he would slam his right hand into Stephen's face, forefinger and middle finger going straight for the eyes.

As this would happen, electricity would flare up in Damrius's body, coursing through the sword into Stephen's left hand, coming from Damrius's left hand into Stephen's right arm, and from Damrius's right hand through the head area, and if his fingers managed to successfully gouge the boys eyes, directly into the brain, where he would overload as much of teh electrodes in there to try and cause it to either fry or explode from within.

If the eye didn't work, then the electrical current running form the sword would pass straight from the left arm up to the heart, and with a large amount of the electricity being draw into the sword, it would cause the heart to instantly stop.

He knew this was a great risk when he pulled the flip, and knew he was going to get stabbed. It was simple. But, he also knew that he could stand long enough with being stabbed that he would be able to kill his opponent before he bled out from his heart. Yet, he still felt the need to speak to a corpse - and in a completely normal voice as he released his rage from the OverSoul.

"Boy... Death is a gift, not a punishment. Learn that now, and--" He faltered off as he would fall over from the body, pain seizing his body, and blood gushing from the hole the sword had made in his stomach and his chest.

Would be stuck to the hilt of the sword rammed into Damrius's chest. And, as lightning would course through that, it would still go through to Sutii's heart, and possibly reach it just as the arm's muscles went numb from the shock, and Damrius's hand would be unbarred for Stephen's face.

He would force more energy from his body as it grabbed Stephen's face, the fingers digging into the jellotinous eyes, more energy than was originally intended would surge from Damrius's hand, going for the brain, heating the fluids from within, causing steam to build up from the middle of the brain, and cause a gooey mess of exploded brain to form within Stephen's head.

Damrius would then recite his line, and fall over, his breathing coming raggedly and feeling like someone had ignited a furnace in his lungs, and his blood spilling out all over his body, from the wound, and from the severed arterie to his heart.

Perhaps it was going to be something Maximos had seen before, or maybe it just wouldn't be an impressive sight at all, but Ruuvan was definitely going to show him regardless of how it looked to any bystanders... not that there were any. Digression.

Ruuvan's gaze shifted to Maximos as he appeared at the border of the clearing, metallic hand grasping a tree and a palm-eye staring at him. The elf definitely hadn't seen it before, but it didn't faze him; the fight was still going on, everything else could be thought about afterwards.

"Show me."

Ruuvan tightened his grip on the swords and took one step forward, slashing horizontally with his left sword level with Max's chest. The two weren't standing together, so why the hell did he strike at nothing? As the sword cut through the air it was illuminated, leaving a trail behind the blade. As his sword finished its arc the light launched forward; a sharp arc of light, released from his slash, sent towards Maximos at ridiculous speeds. Light like this would cut as surely as any blade, not to mention the burning alone when it hit.